


Mirror of Souls

by Quin



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Character Study, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16952886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quin/pseuds/Quin
Summary: Sometimes an understanding of ourselves is only achieved when we are forced to see ourselves through someone else's eyes. All Jessica Jones ever wanted was to suppress her memories, not become self-aware. But with Matt Murdock in her apartment, things take another turn.





	Mirror of Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UrbanAmazon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrbanAmazon/gifts).



> I got a first idea from the prompt "regrettable hookup." From there on, the fic developed a life of its own. The beginning of the story takes place after The Defenders. Later, it incorporates the events of Jessica Jones S2 and Daredevil S3 (spoilers). Minimal canon divergence.

**First Glance**

****

“Could you wash your hands before changing my dressings?” Murdock scolded.

“My hands are clean.” Jessica threw him a look. She was already bugged enough without Matthew fucking Murdock taking his moods out on her. Something was nagging at the back of her mind, leaving Jessica restless and discontent. She had sought several distractions, but nothing she had tried was the solution for her inner turmoil.

One day he had turned up on her doorstep, barely animated enough to call it living, driveling nonsense. Nonsense about his crazy dead or not so dead girlfriend, sewers, some church throwing him out, but needing a place for sleep and further recovery. At the time, Murdock’s apparent death was still fresh in Jessica's mind. Her remorse for having left him behind in the cave underneath Midland Circle Financial had made Jessica take him in without asking too many questions.

“No, they aren’t. They smell after you’ve been in bed with someone whose hygiene leaves something to be desired.”

Jessica felt her blood pressure rise. “That’s none of your business, you pervert.”

“It is. Because the dude you’ve been doing has germs and I am not interested in risking a contagion.”

“I am going back and getting more germs from him for you. I wish you would have stayed dead, Murdock,” Jessica cursed.

Matthew Murdock was sprawled all over her sofa under a thick, woolen blanket, his face turned towards her, his nose wrinkled. “You won’t. Wasn’t a real winner.”

“Do I even want to know how? Go change your dressings yourself. Go back to church, or better? Go to hell.” Jessica went to the bathroom anyway. Her temples throbbed as she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower. Fucking Jeff, the hairdresser, in the back of his worn-down salon hadn’t driven the upcoming storm inside her away. Quite the contrary. Admitting that the sex had been lousy to herself - alright, admitting it to a close friend – well, admitting it to an outsider named Matt Murdock – never ever, being told spot on by that outsider – it was like a shot to the head.

When Jessica returned to her office in fresh clothes, she hoped for Murdock to be finally gone. In vain. He hadn’t moved a single inch.

“Much better,” he commented as she walked past to pour herself a drink. “The wound really itches. Can we change the dressings now?”

“We?” Jessica echoed. She drained her glass, then refilled it to take another large gulp. “I said go to hell. For all I care, the wound can grow and fester. You know what, Murdock: It's you who needs to get laid. When did you last sleep with someone? I doubt it was with that treacherous assassin. No time for bed when it’s time to be dead.”

Jessica finished her second whiskey and sat down at the edge of the couch. “Did you do your secretary? No. Even though you dated her you screwed everything up by leaving her behind when Miss Ninja appeared. Did you blow your chance with Nelson as well? I’d say better a bad fuck than no fuck at all.” With one move Jessica pulled the blanket back and forcefully removed the dressing on Murdock’s leg.

He screamed in protest. Jessica roughly wiped the wound with the washcloth she had brought from the bathroom and stuck a large adhesive bandage on it. “Good now, or shall I put an extra layer on it?” she snapped.

“Why are you venting your frustration on me?” He replaced the blanket.

“That coming from you of all people?” Jessica snorted. “I'm not surprised even the church didn’t want you anymore as a resident. You spend all day in my apartment, brooding. Whatever. You eat my food, you drink my booze. I don’t like it, but I can bill you for that. What I don’t get back is my personal time. Does it say Jessica Jones, 'friendly therapist for despairing superheroes' on my door, or what?”

“ _Me_ of all people?” Murdock slowly repeated, turning the words around in his mouth as if he had to develop a feeling for them. “I thought _you_ of all people would understand. Yet, it seems that you can’t get past your own grief.”

Jessica crossed her arms. “Again, none of your business.”

“Your grief or your understanding? I could pass judgement on what has happened in your life; all the same you decide what the events of your life mean to you. So try putting yourself in another person’s shoes, think about their life: Is that a worthy life you would want for yourself, for your friends, for anybody you pass by? Or would you think: This life fell apart at different stages? And as soon as the person patched their life together, something is trying to tear it to pieces over and over again? Would you be able to relate to them?”

“Are you talking about me or about yourself?” Jessica laughed quietly. There was no trace of humor in her voice.

He shrugged. “You're avoiding my question, Jessica. But yours is showing that although you wish to hide it, you do understand.”

Jessica’s skin began to tingle. She craved another whiskey. She wanted to get up for a refill. Murdock gently but firmly grabbed Jessica by her wrist. “No, don’t.”

She could have easily brushed him off. Instead Jessica stayed put. For once, she didn’t have an immediate answer. There was a lingering sensation that somehow Murdock had tricked her. She replayed the conversation several times in her head. In the end, her brain ached as if caged, empty of words, needles penetrating.

“You can’t compare my life with yours,” she finally declared. In the end, it was the only sentence that sprung to Jessica’s mind. But as she was speaking, Jessica felt how empty that phrase was.

Murdock was still holding her wrist. “That’s not what I am asking you to do. I'm sorry I caused a headache. The events that shaped your life, that brought you here, you'll always have your perspective on it, the one I'll never have in full. I’ve no say in your happiness, no say in your pain. Before I lost my sight, I used to stand in front the mirror practicing, trying to mimic my dad’s boxing moves. Which I, of course, couldn’t do anymore after my accident. When I complained to my dad about it, he said: ‘Matt, you don’t need an object or eyes to see yourself. You can do without; you can do it with me.’ I am not sure he knew what he was saying at this time, but it cut through. A mirror is not only an object to see yourself physically. A mirror reflects your personality and although the image is reversed, you gain clarity from it. The events that shaped my life, that brought me here, I'll always have my perspective on it, the one you'll never have in full. But you reflect off me as I reflect off you.”

Jessica remained silent. Too much information to process. After a while, she stood up, turned the lights off, and went to bed.

~

Jessica tossed and turned. Her throat was dry, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and her hair to her face. With the covers on she sweated, without the covers she started shivering. What was she going to do with Matt Murdock? Carry him outside, dump him on the street, and forget the long-winded speech he had given her? Keep earplugs in all the time or even better, gag and handcuff the man?

The harder Jessica tried to dismiss his words as nonsense the more they popped up in her mind. Even if he kept his trap shut, the man himself would be a constant reminder of what they supposedly shared. Even if Jessica saw her reflection now and then, she would be reminded of what Murdock called the mirror. Usually, Jessica didn’t believe in symbols and superstition. Yet she saw the analogy. Their powers, both not asked for, had set them upon this path. Jessica could be honest with herself. Her car crash, Kilgrave, Midland Circle, yes, she had walked away every time alive, but to what price?

Although Murdock hadn’t died, it didn’t make it any better. Too close to call. From what Jessica had gathered about him, there were indeed parallels to her life. An accident with hazardous materials and the loss of family. Fisk, the Hand, Electra, this was the toll he'd paid. They both struggled with their everyday lives and the long shadows cast by their respective abilities. Nevertheless, what Jessica didn’t understand was what Matthew Murdock wanted from her. Absolution he could receive from the church, support from his friends. He had been aggressive, argumentative, self-loathing, blaming. Wasn’t it painful for him to add her misery to his own?

Jessica gave finally up on sleep and rose from bed. Unsurprisingly, she found Murdock awake. He was still wrapped in the blanket on the couch, holding a glass of water. As she approached him, Murdock held it out to her. Jessica took the glass and slumped down next to him. She sipped and sipped. It was empty before the first words had formed in her mind.

“You're wondering about my motives, Jessica,” Murdock assessed, again leaving her the strange feeling that he knew Jessica better than she knew herself.

“And they are?” She returned the empty glass to Murdock and pushed herself against the backrest, fumbling for a cushion. “Besides my apartment with its high-class amenities.”

“I guess,” he hesitated uncharacteristically, “it’s complicated.”

“Phew, I hate this sentence with a passion. Fine, I plead guilty for you. Guilty that my life is not a superheroic-telenovela, guilty of aimlessly drifting and guilty of taking this out on you. But you’re guilty all the same.”

“I know.”

“Do you think you can help me? Do you think it makes you forget your own issues if you take on mine? I don’t want that and I don’t believe it’s going to improve your situation anyway.”

“I know,” Murdock repeated. “I'm not expecting you to do anything like that. But I realized that being with you is exactly what I need. You are the mirror I need. This is what I meant earlier and I suppose deep inside you get it, too. I’d like to stay because experiencing you is what helps me figuring out myself. And it would work the same for you if you allowed it.”

“I think it means we’re going to kill each other sooner or later.” Jessica rolled her eyes.

“Killing you would mean my own suicide and vice versa.”

Jessica frowned. “This is all too far-fetched. You are crazy if you expect me to be your savior. Anyone who expects this from me is crazy. Whatever, you can stay for now. But stop the bullshit. I still think you need to get laid. That would set you straight.”

“By whom?” Murdock chuckled. “Any suggestions? You for example?”

Jessica groaned and flung the cushion at him.

~

So Matthew Murdock stayed in Jessica’s apartment. He went outside now and then. Jessica assumed it was to test out how far he had recovered. Some training, a few minor thugs. She took on a few clients, most of them were the “There is something wrong with my partner, please find out – oh God, I would have never thought they cheated on me” types which were boring, but brought in cash nonetheless.

She and Murdock didn’t talk again about anything related to their abilities. He seemed to be content to mind his own business while Jessica was around. Jessica wondered if he took his frustrations out elsewhere. As for herself, a few issues continued to bother her. Although she believed she had no use for Murdock’s mirror analogy – if she gave it more thought, it made her uncomfortable – Jessica wasn’t able to completely banish it from her mind. What if she sneaked a peek now and then? She could always turn away, couldn’t she? Alcohol and sex were a constant. Only being drunk didn’t last and her most recent attempt at sex had been awful. In the long run, they hadn’t been able to drown out what Jessica wanted to hide from herself and the world. She knew if she gazed at her reflection, she would see all of it there, but maybe she would also see something else if she only dared.

Dared? Daredevil. Matthew Murdock. His mirror analogy. Jessica facepalmed. Suddenly, an idea hit her. A stupid, maybe a very stupid idea, but an idea nevertheless.

 

**Trying to keep eye contact**

 

“Hey, let me help you with that.” Jessica took the scissors from Murdock and removed his left sleeve. There was a middle-sized cut on his upper arm, fresh blood seeping through.

“It’s nothing,” Murdock waved her off.

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Jessica rinsed the wound, then dabbed some alcohol on it. “I doubt you got that while getting laid.” She picked up the gauze pad from the first aid kit and covered it with an elastic bandage.

“That same old story again?” He rolled his eyes.

“It never gets old,” Jessica insisted.

“For you sex is just a quick satisfaction of wants. For me sex needs to be relished, savored. It is an experience with all the senses I have at my disposal, not a trial-and-error to get satisfaction by chance.”

Jessica hadn’t forgotten that Murdock was quite sharp-tongued, so she saw that retort coming. “Try me,” she said nonchalantly. “Or are you going to chicken out, Murdock?” She let her face hover in front of his, waiting to be burnt.

He propped his chin up, pausing for thought. Jessica was aware that she couldn’t hide her nervousness from him. She wouldn’t withdraw her challenge though.

“On one condition. Do not use your powers on me. I want to do it my way.”

Jessica raised her eyebrows. “But are you going to use your supersenses on me, Murdock?”

“If you think this is unfair, believe it or not, I still can’t see you as you can see me. The question here is who needs something more than just getting laid?” He gave her a slight evil smile. “And stop calling me by my last name, Jessica. That’s ridiculous. You called me Matt before.”

Preoccupied by the thought of why and when she had switched between calling him Matt to Murdock, Jessica only noticed the moment she was in air that Matt had scooped her up in his arms as he rose from the couch.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Jessica started to struggle.

“Stop that,” he commanded. “It’s difficult to carry you to bed when you are resisting. Didn’t I just ask you to not use your strength against me?”

Reluctantly, Jessica stopped kicking. No man had ever carried her to bed. “We could have just done it here.”

“There's more room in bed. The couch smells like me, the bed already has your scent.”

“What? Stale alcohol and sweat?”

Matt laughed wholeheartedly as he settled down on the mattress, pulling Jessica into his lap. Jessica squirmed again. Why was she so fucking nervous? Seriously, it wasn’t her first time and she had been the one to ask Matt for sex.

Suddenly, she felt his lips against hers, just a soft brush as if he wasn’t yet ready for a full kiss. Then the tip of Matt’s tongue followed the outline of her mouth. Time seemed to stand still. Paralyzed, Jessica let Matt taste her as he liked. His tongue slipped inside, carefully exploring while his hands gently held her head in place. Jessica felt her heart speed up. Matt broke the kiss and cupped her face.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “A whiff of licorice mixed with the scent of burning candles, intensified by the smoke of a BBQ, enhanced by turf and bark. Beneath, your skin tastes like the salt of the sea.”

“You're kidding me.” Jessica snorted. Then she pushed Matt on his back, tearing away the rest of his shirt. She pressed herself on top of him, hands moving to the fly of his pants. Something stirred inside of her, something that would surface soon.

“Jessica, wait. You're taking advantage again.”

“Why is that so bad?” She mumbled, but of course, Matt could hear her.

“Please, I want to create my own scene with you.” His voice was suddenly hoarse with need.

“Huh?” Jessica scratched her head.

Matt rolled around, so he could once more pull Jessica into his embrace. “Other people can look at you, in a few minutes they capture the color and length of your hair, the shape of your face, the expression in your eyes, the crook of your nose and mouth, your figure, they see your breasts rise beneath your shirt, the roundness of your backside under your jeans. I can’t see any of it. You can see me. So let me capture you with my other senses. Let me feel you, taste you, smell you, hear you.”

Jessica shuddered as he moved his hands to her hips.

“Hey,” he ceased as soon as he sensed her tremors. “Shall I describe it to you so you can poke fun at me?”

Honestly, it wasn’t fair to deny Matt his wish. Supersenses or not, his need was real. He was even risking her ridicule. Jessica felt that something stir inside her again. What the heck? She needed to ignore it.

Finally, Jessica nodded. “Ok,” she added aloud for him.

“I can feel that. You are in my arms. Thank you, Jessica.” Matt gently pressed his face to her neck. "The little waves of your hair tickle my nose. It's soft, an isle of warmth.” He moved his hands under her sweater. “Your skin is quite the contrary. Firm, almost hard, astonishingly smooth, cool, yet it heats up to touch. Like porcelain.” Matt turned her around, so that Jessica looked directly at him. Once more, he used his mouth to explore her face. He placed several kisses on her forehead, then moved to her eyebrows. She closed her eyes as his lips ghosted past her nose, visited her cheeks. Jessica’s head swum. She leaned against Matt for more support. He pulled her sweater off. Before Jessica could realize what he was doing, his mouth returned to her body, licking and sucking her collarbones. His hands slowly moved up her stomach.

Jessica gasped. Even though her eyes were still closed, she felt dizzy. His breath was like a windstorm giving her goosebumps. His proximity was going to kill her. “Matt, say something, doesn’t matter what.”

“Mmmmh Jessica. You amaze me. You’re such a tender person, your features so delicate. Yet I can smell your fire, hear your strength boil in your blood. May I remove your bra? I’d like to feel your heart beneath your breast, caress your nipples.”

“If you get rid of your clothes as well.” Jessica tugged at his waistband.

“Your wish is my command.” Matt lifted her up, there was a rustle and swish, once, twice and then Jessica was back in his arms. Jessica made the mistake of reopening her eyes. Her jeans were gone, his clothes as well. She quickly closed her eyes again. She had seen Matt in his underwear before, but never completely naked. At the same time she scolded herself why she was making such a fuss about a nude man in her bed. Although Matt had followed her instructions, Jessica’s sensations backfired on her. His stiff cock pushed through the thin fabric of her briefs against her pubic mound. He was already undoing the clasp of her bra, setting her breasts free. He caught them in his palms, weighing them carefully.

“Perfect.” His whisper grazed her ear and Jessica shivered. Her last fucks had all been fully-clothed, just pants down for a quick in and out. Then Matt took her nipples between his fingers, stroking them, circling them until they painfully stiffened. A low moan escaped her lips.

“Good, yes?” He nibbled at her neck, gave her nipples a last pinch, then his fingers advanced towards her briefs. Jessica was shamefully aware of her clit swimming in moisture. She squirmed in his arms. What was it with Matthew Murdock that made her feel shame? She couldn’t help herself. She twisted free and flipped him on the back for the second time.

“Jessica…!”

“My turn,” she interrupted him sharply.

“Ok.” Matt raised his shoulders, then let them fall down on the cushion. “Take your time, look at me because you can. Don’t rush it, I like to be touched.” He suggestively spread his legs, so she could admire his cock.

Jessica bit her lips. He had turned the tables on her again, hadn’t he?

“Come on, Jessica. What are you waiting for? Touch me, anywhere.” To her astonishment, it sounded almost like begging. At last, she settled her hands on his chest. His heart beat as fast as hers. She ran her fingers down, felt his muscles flex beneath as she traced his skin. She paused as she encountered one of his many scars. She had to admit they enhanced his looks. They gave him a sinister cast that reminded Jessica that this was actually Daredevil, not any random lawyer.

“Stop tormenting me, Jessica. Stop hesitating.” Matt took her hands and guided them towards his testicles. He groaned as she cupped them. His balls were plump and swollen, ready to burst. “Yes, please,” Mat urged Jessica on as she came close to his erect penis. But she passed by, instead feeling up his butt. So firm and well defined. He didn’t complain, but shoved himself closer to her. Jessica panted for breath as her breasts brushed his hot skin. She wanted to hold the reins, but every time she took them, it felt like she was burning up.

As she withdrew her hands from beneath Matt, Jessica lost her balance and fell on top of him. Immediately, he held her close. Jessica tried to ignore the tiny voice in her head, the one that belonged to her inner turbulence and took the initiative to kiss him fiercely on the mouth. To Jessica’s surprise, Matt didn’t scold her now for her forcefulness. Instead, he willingly let her tongue invade to suck on it. Only when Jessica needed to catch some air, she realized how distracted she had been. Her panties were already tangled at her feet. Somehow, Matt had removed them. Jessica breathed heavily, turmoil on the rise. Sensing Jessica’s bewilderment, he gently shoved her off him.

“Hey Jessica, you know you don’t have to prove anything.”

“Prove what?” she demanded, her tone snappish. Jessica knew Matt could tell if anyone lied, but she wasn’t aware of anything she needed to prove. “I am not dumb. I realized there was the chance you’d say yes to sex.”

“Do you really want to sleep with me?”

“Dude, you are ruining the mood. Why are you having doubts now?” Tension spread in her as if trapped, looking for a way of release. Jessica dragged Matt on top of her, while grabbing his cock. Huge and stiff, and already so slick. Jessica didn’t want to think anymore, or feel any weird notions, just ride Matt’s dick until the world spun away.

“Condom,” he wheezed as he tried to fend her off. Impatiently, Jessica fumbled in the drawer for the package. When she finally found one, she was so eager she tore the package and condom to pieces.

“Let me.” Matt reached across. Luckily, there was another one. Jessica watched him hungrily as he pulled the condom over his cock. Somehow, he noticed. “Remember, on my condition.”

“But why?” Jessica found it still stupid. She had thought that in the heat of the moment, Matt would simply forget it.

He pushed her down and Jessica spread her legs, suddenly wanton. “Because I want to savor, not gobble and you should, too.” Matt slipped down, pressing a kiss on her outer labia.

“I… oh shit.” Jessica couldn’t remember anymore what she had planned to say when Matt’s skilled tongue darted to her clit and back to her labia. She ripped the sheets as she clawed her fingers into the cloth. She wriggled with her hips for more attention.

“Fuck you, Matt; you want me to lose control. You want me to destroy my bedroom, admit it!” Instead of replying, he penetrated her with his tongue, over and over again, until Jessica held true to her promise. Thrashing with her arms, she smashed the bedside lamp off the drawer. “This is on you.”

He stopped. “This is really hard for you, isn’t it?”

“You’re being mean on purpose. Do you want to provoke me into using my strength against you?” Jessica wanted to hit her head against the bed frame. One moment, she was so incredibly horny, the other moment incredibly confused. What had she aimed for in the first place? They had argued, he had used her, she had tantalized him and then instead of lashing back at her, Matt had come up with his mirror analogy.

“Hell no.” Matt interrupted her thoughts as he scooped Jessica in his arms one more time. “Not what you think, not at all.” He nestled against her, caressing her back.

Jessica looked at his pale face. His expression was dead serious. The temptation of the mirror. It still called out to her.

“I still want sex with you, and deep inside you also know why, Mr. Supersenses.”

He made an indefinable sound. “I didn’t think of it like this.”

“Well, I do.” Jessica had regained her breath.

“Do you really think this is clever?”

“You wanted to take me a look to see your own reflection. Quite selfish,” Jessica retorted. “No, don’t retreat.”

Matt sighed. “Playing with fire, eh?”

Jessica wasn’t sure if he was referring to her or to himself. She rubbed her backside against his groin eliciting a soft sigh from him.

“Let me show you then, but don’t complain if you don’t like what you see.” He moved her around, placing his dick at her entrance.

Jessica shivered, but couldn’t suppress a “Maybe you’re the one who’s getting a surprise” as she thrust her hips forward to meet him. She uttered a hoarse cry as he slid into her. Matt silenced her by kissing her deeply, pushing his tongue into her mouth in the same slow rhythm as he pushed his cock into her vagina. As he hit her sweet spot over and over again, Jessica broke his skin by digging her fingernails into his back. He didn’t seem to mind or maybe he was too busy trying not to lose his own self-control. Jessica noticed that Matt’s breath came more and more in short puffs and sweat dripped down his forehead. No matter what he had told her, Jessica wasn’t the passive type. She couldn’t resist grabbing his ass and shoving him deeper inside her. She desperately needed more friction. He steadied himself as if to torment Jessica again.

“You know you want to fuck me harder. Until you ruthlessly come. Don’t you long for it?” She let her hands wander back to his hips. “Want to change positions, take me from behind?”

Matt bit his lip. Jessica could see the temptation on his face. Instead of answering, he pulled out of Jessica, leaving her whimpering. Before she could do anything else, he moved her onto her side, pushing her left leg upwards. Then Matt entered her again, his thigh pleasuring her clit. His hands were all over her nipples again, his teeth nibbled at her neckline.

“Fuck Matt, fuck.” Jessica moaned. All she could think of was how good he felt inside her. She wanted it to never end and at the same time, she finally wanted to get off. Jessica tossed her head left and right as once more a wave of passion rolled over her. She didn’t know how much longer she could last. Another scream and still another formed in her throat, yet releasing them didn’t seem to release any of her tension. Jessica felt the contractions growing stronger, rippling through her body, increasing until she couldn’t take it anymore. She clawed at Matt’s arm, and then drilled her teeth in his chest.

“Oh God, Jessica, you’re killing me,” he gushed as he thrust into her.

“Then stop it,” she yelled. “I can’t… Matt, I am already… if you don’t stop you risk me breaking you into two halves.”

“No,” he groaned as he continued to slide in and out of her. “I need you, Jessica, please. I need this, now.”

Her muscles flexed as they prepared to escape this sweet hell. She was half-trapped under Matt. Jessica kicked out hard. He panted, went totally rigid and for a moment she thought, she had struck Matt with too much force. But then, he let out another low moan and relaxed, spilling his seed. As a reward Jessica bit him again.

 

**Too close to see**

 

Jessica had maybe slept for three hours when her cell phone rang. At first, she thought she had woken up from a weird dream. But her muscles were sore, her cunt felt used and Matt lay next to her asleep. He was still naked and tousled. Jessica tiptoed out of bed, quietly grabbing a few clothes. The telephone had already stopped ringing, but with his hearing, he probably was a light sleeper. Jessica didn’t want him to rise, didn’t want to have an awkward conversation after this. The sex had been incredibly fucking hot, maybe even hotter than with Luke, but it hadn’t been an escape. Not at all. Trapped. Jessica took some slugs out of the whiskey bottle as she checked who had called. Trish – and there was already a text message. _I’ve got some great news I’d love to share with you. Do you have time for coffee at my place?_

Jessica hurriedly put on her clothes and fled her apartment. Hopefully, talking with Trish would take her mind off what had happened and hopefully Matt Murdock would be gone when she returned. She made a mental note to visit the liquor store after meeting her sister.

When Jessica passed a shop window, her reflection wore dark circles over bluish pale skin with crinkled clothes that were in dire need of a laundry machine. Damn, she hadn’t even showered. But she'd looked worse. So maybe there would be a comment from Trish and Jessica would shrug it off as usual. Next Trish would poke her a bit, ask about her clients and cases and in the end, she would share her news, right?

Jessica decided there would be still time to buy new whiskey before coffee with Trish. Then she could create her own Irish coffee. By the time, Jessica rang Trish’s door bell, she had already emptied half the bottle. Mercifully, Trish seemed to be in a hyper cheerful mood. She didn’t notice the large brown bag Jessica carried. Jessica couldn’t get in a word in, once Trish opened her mouth, her sister babbled non-stop. There was new guy she had met. Name Griffin Sinclair. Oh my God, his looks. Such a cutie, so handsome. He was in the news business. Reporter. A brave man, intelligent, charming. You so have to meet him. On any other day, Jessica would have vomited over so much rosy love gibberish. Today though she was content enough to let Trish fill her thoughts with Trish’s new boyfriend. Given Trish’s history with questionable guys, Jessica vowed to run a background check on Griffin later, although Trish’s Griffin talk made her feel she'd known the man for a lifetime. Trish only took a break between bites as they shared an XXL pizza from the delivery service. Jessica stayed longer than expected and Trish suggested that Jessica stay overnight, thus she would be able to meet Griffin right away the next morning for brunch.

Clutching at every straw handed to her, Jessica agreed straightaway. No risk of running into Matt. No bed smelling after their hookup. Jessica slumped on Trish’s very comfortable couch and it didn’t take her very long to fall asleep. Sleep, though very much needed, wasn’t peaceful. In her dreams Jessica ran through a house of mirrors and in each and every one of them Daredevil hid, chasing her as soon as she went past. In the morning, she felt like death warmed over. At least, after a shower and a t-shirt borrowed from Trish, Jessica could pass for a living being. Griffin was indeed friendly and pleasant towards Jessica during brunch, but nothing he said really registered with her. Eventually, he had to leave for work and Trish also needed to be back at WNEX Station. Before they parted, Trish wanted to know Jessica’s opinion on Griffin. Jessica told her that honestly, she hadn’t spent enough time with Griffin to form one. Trish said something about getting together again before leaving her alone.

Jessica wandered back to the liquor store. Just in case. To be safe. However, she was back home way too soon for her liking. She considered visiting Malcolm for a moment, but then thought better off it. She had neglected Malcolm for quite some time and he probably would prod her more than Trish had done.

Finding her home empty, relief settled in. Jessica fixed herself a drink, then sat down at her desk, glad for the new task at hand. She dove right into it, creating a new folder on her laptop: Griffin Sinclair.

Ultimately, Jessica ended up with too much data; it would have been enough for a comprehensive lifetime biography or an in-depth profile that put even a S.H.I.E.L.D. analyst to shame. Basically, Griffin appeared to be proper boyfriend material for Trish. Good for her. Despite that there was still a bit of uncertainty troubling Jessica for some obscure reason. Maybe it had something to do with her recent experience where someone had befuddled her judgement.

~

The next time Jessica woke she had keyboard buttons imprinted all over her face. She sighed. There was nothing else to do. Trish floated on cloud nine with Griffin while Jessica had scared off Malcolm and probably also any prospective clients. Her brain had enough capacity to let dangerous matters resurface, never mind if she added one or more drinks to the equation. Why was she unable to suppress the things at hand? Why hadn’t her usual methods worked this time? She shouldn’t have slept with Matt. What had she hoped to achieve by doing this? Making herself feel more alive by tricking the devil out of him?

Jessica approved of people who didn’t sugarcoat their words, who stood up for what they said, who hadn’t lost themselves to power games and money hunger. But it necessary didn’t mean she wanted them close. Nobody had the right to see her unprotected soul suffering as it struggled to find a safe place, a place where the persons she loved were not taken away from her, a place where nobody exploited and abused her or the people attached to her. Not Malcolm, not Trish, not even Jessica herself. She had taken painstaking effort to build and maintain these barriers. Yes, Jessica could feel with Malcolm, but if it hadn’t been for her, Kilgrave would have never spotted him and he wouldn’t have become a junkie. Yes, she had seen Trish suffer under her manipulating, abusive mother, but at least Trish had a mother who sort of cared (though Dorothy’s reasons were downright selfish). And it had been Trish who had talked Jessica into that stupid superhero thing, drawing Kilgrave’s attention. Not that she blamed her sister.

Jessica simply didn’t want anybody’s attention, comment, actual judgement on what she had experienced. It wasn’t understanding, it wasn’t relating, to Jessica they were just saying something for the sake of saying something, but being glad they weren’t the ones who lived through that agony. She didn’t want to gaze upon her unprotected soul either. It would involve realizing over and over again that what were supposed to be scars were still festering wounds. The burn of loss, of shame over what she had done and the hurt that came with all of it, it would sneak upon her, it would feast on Jessica’s soul until she was suffocating, drained empty. And every time she thought she had left it behind, that it would never happen again, it would come back to her with force. Triggered by things apparently beyond her control. However, this time Jessica had been in control. At least that was what she believed.

If her soul was a holy sanctum where none of her friends, including Jessica herself, held access rights, Matthew Murdock shouldn’t be the one to enter the forbidden place. Only now did Jessica comprehend what his real powers were. Not that he was a skilled martial artist, not that he could smell an enemy miles away, not that he could hear which direction the sword was swung at him, not that he could differentiate a dozen weapons by touch and not that he could taste the tiniest drop of poison if someone would attempt to hide it in his food. Matt was literally able to gain access to people’s souls with his enhanced senses. Jessica hadn’t known that when she had first met him, she hadn’t known that when they fought the Hand, she hadn’t known that when she had let Matt into her apartment. It had been hidden behind his your-average-but-blind-public-defender image, hidden behind the vigilante fighter, hidden behind the broken, lost man who had been spit out from a New Yorker sewer, turning up on her doorstep one day.

Maybe she wouldn’t have noticed if they had continued to fling abuses at each other. Then she could have discounted everything, reactions came with counter-reactions. But even under the cover of his stingers Matt had crept closer. Sleeping with him had heightened this closeness. It hadn’t felt like a fling where you just share bodies, it had felt like sharing mind, body and soul.

“Jessica?” Startled that someone stood in her apartment door, she threw her glass at the intruder. Matt caught it effortlessly in his left hand. He approached the desk and put the glass back on the table.

Jessica gaped at him. Instead of being in his street fighting clothes, he wore a grey pullover over a white shirt with a black tie, grey pants and matching business shoes. His walking stick was stuck under his arm.

“Back in the business? Does that mean you won’t use my apartment anymore as a substitute home?”

Matt sat down at the edge of the desk. Jessica moved the laptop around, so that it sat between them. “Are you trying to get rid of me again? We need to talk.”

“I always do. About what? I don’t think there is anything to discuss that we haven’t discussed before.” Suddenly, Jessica’s cell phone rang. She immediately answered. “Trish, perfect timing.”

“Yes, Jess,” Trish sounded impatient. “Where are you? Griffin and I are already waiting for you. You agreed to have dinner with us tonight, remember? I texted you the time and location a couple of days ago. We have a reservation at that new hard-to-get-into Italian restaurant. We have to order soon; otherwise we’ll lose the table. Griffin is inside, trying to persuade the head waiter to wait a little longer. You are coming, aren’t you? You promised to tell me afterwards what you think of Griffin. You know how important this is for me, Jess.”

“Yeah, sure, coming.” Jessica pushed the ‘End call’ button and looked exasperatedly at her massive stack of ‘Griffin Sinclair’ files. Shit. That was all she needed. “Can’t talk now, you heard her.”

“You are using this as an excuse to get away from me.”

“Look, Matt, whatever. I’ve got other problems now. As you can guess, Trish has a new boyfriend. I’ve got to use this evening to find out if he is good enough for her or if he’s just another asshole wolf in sheep’s clothing. This is my final call.” She stood up, ready to push him away. “I need to do this for Trish. If you don’t understand this, you don’t understand anything at all.”

Jessica ran to the door, then stopped midway and grabbed Matt by his hand. “You owe me a favor. You're coming with me.” She dragged him towards the exit.

“Jessica, what are you planning?” Matt demanded. Thank God, he didn’t put up a fight. Jessica didn’t have time for that either. She stopped a cab to take them.

“Don’t argue with me. You owe me for the time spent at my place. This is how it goes. I’ll run the conversation, you keep a low profile. In a few hours I’ll have the results I want and you and I are square.”

“Come again?”

Jessica sighed loudly. “Are you pretending to be dumb on purpose? See, I grill Griffin, he talks, you listen and check if he's telling the fucking truth. If he has true intentions with Trish. He's a war reporter, so probably a tough guy. Look into his heart. Don’t tell me you can’t do this. I won't accept it.”

“Won’t it look weird if you just bring me in? They don’t know me,” he objected.

“Your hearing is still improving, right? So you can’t be just next door?”

“Yes, but…?”

“I said no ‘buts,’” Jessica cut Matt off. “I’ll make something up about us.”

“That’s a pretty awful thing to do to a stranger.”

“Oh really?” Jessica hissed. “Then why are you doing this to me all the time?”

“Jessica, this is not…”

“Shut up, we're here.” Jessica paid the driver, opened the door and jumped out of the cab. “Trish, Griffin. Sorry for the late arrival,” she called out and waved before Matt could say anything else.

“Jess,” Trish exclaimed and pulled her close. Jessica carefully wriggled out of her sister’s embrace to say hello to Griffin.

“Hi Jessica. I am glad you agreed to join us.” Griffin gave her a friendly smile. “Given the fact that we are a couple and sometimes you can feel like a third wheel.”

“Please, it’s good to see you two. And don’t worry,” Jessica grasped the opportunity, “I’ve brought an acquaintance.” Jessica snatched Matt by the elbow. “I hope you don’t mind,” she added sweetly, knowing now that Griffin had made the reference, he couldn’t back out. “Trish, Griffin. This is Matthew Murdock. Matthew, my best friend Trish Walker and her boyfriend, Griffin Sinclair.” Jessica took Matt’s hand and luckily, he played along, and let Jessica help him to shake the respective hands.

“A pleasure to meet you, Trish, Griffin.”

Griffin didn’t seem to mind Matt’s presence at all, but Trish threw Jessica a bewildered look which didn’t help to ease her nerves.

“Shall we go inside before somebody else steals our reservation?” Griffin held the door open for the two women and Matt, too polite to comment on Matt’s handicap, but still wanting to be helpful.

The head waiter ushered them to the table and handed them the menu. Matt allowed Jessica to read the menu for him (not that he didn’t know what they were serving anyway) and after they all had picked drinks and food, Jessica was ready to attack. Unfortunately, Trish beat her to it.

“Matthew, haven’t we met before?” Trish wondered, a hint of inquisition in her voice. “At the 29th Precinct Police Station?”

Jessica cleared her throat. However, it was too late. Matt nodded. “Yes, I was working for Jessica and another client of mine. You picked her up, didn’t you?”

“Well, she was doing her superhero thing and thought I was better off at the police station.” At that point Jessica kicked Trish under the table. Her sister wouldn’t cease though. “Wasn’t there that rumor that you were taken ransom? Doesn’t it make you feel uncomfortable working with powered clients?”

“Trish!” Jessica inhaled sharply. “That’s not precisely a proper topic for dinner.”

Nevertheless, Matt smiled kindly at Jessica’s sister. “I am there for all people, powered or not. And that was just an unfortunate misunderstanding. You know Jessica well, Trish, she is quite the individual and left the precinct on her own. As there was nothing I could do anymore, I also left.”

“I see,” Trish remarked. Jessica could see her sister’s mind working. “But you were gone for quite a while, so that’s why I keep wondering.”

“Trish, could you stop asking Matt these very personal questions?”

“It’s alright, Jessica. It’s her journalistic instincts kicking in, Trish, right? New York is a troubled city these days. I’ve noticed enough to realize the authorities won’t always tell us the truth. And if they can’t cover it up, they don’t acknowledge people’s fears. To be honest, I needed some time away from day-to-day New York, so I went to live with the Church for a while.”

“Oh wow,” Trish exclaimed astounded. “You are religious?”

“Catholic,” Matt replied.

“Hey, we’re not having a Trish Talk interview on air. Griffin and I are still here, too.”

“Griffin, Jessica told me, you are a journalist as well and one with a quite a respectable reputation. Going into war zones, that’s not something for everyone.” Matt turned his attention to Griffin.

Griffin shrugged. “Someone has to do it. We have to know what’s happening in our world.”

“Well,” Matt said, “so you and Trish met over your common profession? That’s really nice.”

Jessica tried to hijack the discussion again. “I am glad that Trish has found herself an honest, hardworking man this time. Because you never know. Her last guy did illegal drugs and he was a police officer.”

Trish groaned. “Jess.”

“What? I thought you and Griffin have gotten quite close. Didn’t you tell me you were soulmates who have no secrets from each other? Sorry,” Jessica claimed with her best fake-sugar voice. “But Griffin, don’t you agree that the discussion about legalizing drugs these days is going in the wrong direction?” Jessica emptied her drink to keep her throat moist for talking.

“I do. In fact, I think they should also further restrict alcohol sales,” Griffin eyed Jessica’s empty whiskey glass. She chose to ignore Griffin’s dig.

“I would have told Griffin about Will Simpson in time.” Trish put her hand on Griffin’s. “It’s just a sad story of a good man’s downfall due to substance abuse. Will wasn’t always like that. I didn’t realize at the beginning and when I did, it was too late for me to help him. I guess love makes you blind.” Trish gasped, looking at Matt. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“It’s alright. It happens frequently to people. I understand this is a matter only between you, your ex-boyfriend, and Griffin. But generally speaking, what do you think are the best ingredients for a good relationship? Was that already on Trish Talk? If so, I'm sorry if I missed that episode.”

Trish hesitated for a moment. “Fidelity. Cheating is a no go for me. If one of the partners feels like there is something amiss, the best option is to talk. Then again, I think it’s also important that one respects the freedom of the other. Common activities are always great, but you should give your partner some time for themselves. If you do everything together, there is nothing new in your relationship. And then at some point you’ve nothing to tell anymore.”

Griffin squeezed Trish’s hand. “I had a former girlfriend cheat on me. It felt awful. She was around less and less; always found excuses for her absence and one day I found her in bed with another man. She thought I was travelling, but my journey had been cancelled. It hurt a lot and I don’t want to make anyone else ever feel that way. Now it makes me suspicious if someone is trying to hide something from me.”

“Taking and giving should be equal.” Trish added. “Someone who constantly criticizes me, someone who wants to change me and doesn’t respect who I am. Humiliation and violence is something which will make me run immediately.”

“That shouldn’t naturally happen in a relationship,” Griffin said somewhat angrily.

“Yet, domestic violence is something that I’ve seen more than often enough with my clients,” Matt commented.

“Clients? Ah yes, you mentioned clients before, so I presume you are a lawyer?”

“Jessica’s lawyer as it seems, among others,” Trish informed Griffin, not being able to hold back this comment.

“Mmmh, comes with my work as private eye, too.” Jessica rolled her eyes at Trish. What was that for? Before Griffin could answer, the waiter arrived with their orders and Jessica used the opportunity to further press Griffin’s view on relationships. “Meeting the family and friends of the person you’re dating. If you love someone, you should include them in that circle and vice versa.”

“That’s why I'm here,” Griffin chuckled in-between bites. “Trish's friends should be my friends. Even though it feels like Trish and I are meant for each other, l know I’ve still got so much more to learn about her. I want to know everything about her past life, her current life, her future plans. I’d like to feel as comfortable in her apartment as I am in my own home, I’d like to be there for her all the time, whatever she needs.”

Trish blushed at Griffin’s quite emotional speech. Jessica thought it was goddamn awful, but if her sister liked it… anyhow, that was up for discussion later. She pinched Matt as he began to talk again. But he simply ignored her. What had she said to him about keeping a low profile?

“That’s sweet. You are still quite newly in love, aren’t you? I just advocate against lending your new boy- or girlfriend large sums of money. It’s a common scam to exploit someone’s feelings, then get access to their cash and accounts. They promise to give the money back, then they're not reachable, then they ask for more money, making up a story about their sick granny, followed by consolations and in the end, they just vanish. Sorry,” Matt apologized, “I didn’t mean to imply that either of you would do such a thing. It's an occupational hazard.” He smiled innocently at Trish and Griffin.

“No worries,” Trish and Griffin said with one voice. “We're the same. Always inquiring journalists.” They laughed happily together.

Jessica stabbed at her pasta violently. Since when had she become the person to talk the least in a conversation? As a private investigator, she was able to ask the right questions, too. So why had her remarks annoyed Trish and Griffin while they had laughed at Matt’s statement? Matt had something to answer for once the evening was finished.

**Cover up the mirror, cover it up!**

 

“What part of do not get involved, let me run the conversation, did you not understand?” Jessica spat as she slammed the door of her apartment shut.

Matt sat down on her desk once more, looking in her direction unfazed. “It went well, so what?”

“Yeah and what if not? What was that at the beginning between you and Trish?”

“She asked, I answered.”

“You could have politely declined to get personal.”

“And what? Leave more questions lingering in her mind? This is my version of what happened regarding Midland Circle.” Matt crossed his arms. “We talked about this before.”

“Can’t you do the simplest task without meddling? That money scam talk, seriously? What if Trish and Griffin had just left? It was quite suggestive and insulting.”

“They didn’t. You revealed that Trish’s ex was doing drugs though – that could have ruined it right at the start.”

“Mr. Smart-ass lawyer knows everything better. You just think because you can creep on people with your weird powers you decide what makes them tick? Trish is my best friend, my sister, and I am going to protect her!” Jessica stomped her feet. The floor creaked dangerously.

“Jessica, you are being far too emotional over this. And although you thought you could handle this matter delicately, you proved you could not. It’s because Trish means so much to you.”

Jessica ground her teeth. “I'm always the insensitive one,” she snapped. “Good, obviously I was presuming that I know Trish well enough to know which topics to address to see if Griffin is the right one for her. You don’t even have family and since you've been staying at my apartment, you haven’t called your friends once, because you don’t have any either!”

“Thanks for the reminder, Jessica.” Matt said quietly, his voice void of emotion. “What is wrong with you? I thought we were past hurling insults at each other. Whatever it is, why are you using me as your punch bag again? You want a verdict now or not?”

“Tell me and then go fuck off. You know exactly what is fucking wrong.”

“Griffin didn’t lie once. He’s honestly in love with Trish and he seems to want to protect her as much as you do.” Matt got up, took his coat, and walked to the door. “Goodbye, Jessica.”

Jessica pulled the whiskey from the cupboard. She didn’t bother using a glass; she immediately took a big gulp out the bottle. Using Matt as a human lie detector had been a stupid idea. Another one in her long line of stupid things to do with Matt Murdock.

She should have relied on her own instincts. Nonetheless, something in the back of her mind took her back to Will Simpson again. Jessica had seen him as a Kilgrave victim, sympathized with him, thought he would be good for Trish, but in the end with all that drug shit, his violence had escalated and not only threatened Jessica, but worst of all, Trish. So was her judgement to be trusted after all? Matt’s statement had gotten to the heart of it. Once more he had been too close to home for Jessica’s liking. But she swore she would have no more of it.

~

Jessica popped down on Trish’s sofa next to her sister.

“So how did you like the evening? What do you think about Griffin?” Trish asked, her voice sounding hopeful. “Or do I need to set up another meeting for you to get a better idea?”

“Nah,” Jessica shook her head. “I'm sure I know enough about Griffin by now.”

“Then put me out of my misery,” Trish interrupted.

“If you weren’t so impatient, Trish, I would have told you already.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “It was a nice evening. I think for once you are lucky. He’s a decent human being. He has a good job, you’ve got common interests and best of all, he’s not hiding anything. No crimes, no history or sign of substance abuse, no crazy exes and he seems stable despite having been to war zones. You know what, he is such a goodie two shoes, it’s actually disgusting.”

Trish sighed in relief. “You came off as quite aggressive yesterday. Did you…?”

Jessica shrugged. “You know I would, wouldn’t you? It’s my job, it comes naturally. You’re important to me. Simple as that. I am not willing to take any risks after that disaster with Simpson. Or remember the other guys who were just trying to ride on a wave of fame with you, exploiting you as long as it lasted?”

“I’d rather not.”

“See, then less to worry about for now.” Jessica remarked. “Apart from Dorothy informing the media and paparazzi waiting in front of your apartment, you can savor your lover’s bliss.”

“Hm.” Trish murmured as if something else was on her mind.

“Honestly, I mean it.” Jessica patted Trish’s arm.

“What about you?” Trish inquired.

“What about me? Don’t worry. People come in with their mundane cases, but need help anyway. So I do my part,” she lied without blinking an eye. “The prices for booze have gone up yet again. It’s business-as-usual.”

Trish snorted. “Not that.” She suddenly leaned forward to look critically at Jessica. “Are you dating your lawyer?”

Jessica pulled a grimace. “Say that again?”

“It’s a small, but rather elegant restaurant. You, me, and Griffin. And then you turn up with Matthew Murdock as if it’s a double date.”

“I asked if it was okay with you both.”

Trish tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear. “Yeah, but with him already dressed up and standing in front of us. As if Griffin or I would be so impolite to say no.”

“Are you nuts? I am not dating anybody,” Jessica insisted fiercely. “I am done with dating. Look, I owe Murdock a favor for not getting arrested dealing with my Raymond case. He is working pro-bono, so I thought why not invite him to dinner?”

“Griffin paid for that dinner.” Trish raised her eyebrows. ”Besides, I thought Murdock was hired through Hogarth.”

“So what. Nobody forced Griffin to get his credit card out. Unlike Midland Circle, his account won’t collapse if I bring my lawyer for a drink and a decent meal. Does it always have to be a date just because you are being nice to a man? I can’t cook, I can’t bake, and being a lawyer, Matt doesn’t need me as a private investigator. Conclusion: it’s the one kind of favor I am able to return. It’s not all about money.”

“But you brought Murdock to our dinner. As if you planned to make an introduction,” Trish objected. “And we did talk about many personal issues, including good advice for relationships.”

“Trish. He is not my type,” Jessica seethed. “Besides, I was testing out Griffin.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But if you are not dating, it’s not ok to bring him in to such a personal dinner,” Trish declared. “Are you in legal trouble?

“Stop pestering me, Trish. I bring you good news and now this. I don’t have legal trouble. Do you really think that dinner alone with my lawyer would be pleasant? I imagined there would be less uncomfortable silence with you and Griffin being present.”

“You could have bought him a gift certificate instead.”

“What do you actually want?”

“Something's weird, Jessica. I feel that something's off with you.”

“I am not lying to you, Trish. But think what you want. I have things to do.” Technically, Jessica had simply omitted that she had used Matt as a human lie detector on Griffin. However, this was something Trish didn’t need to know. Griffin was the right one for her and that was the only thing that counted.

Jessica got up, annoyed that Trish would make a mountain out of a molehill. Why couldn’t her sister believe that Jessica for once was being nice without any ulterior motives? Why had her conversations gone down the drain so quickly recently? First the Matt disaster and then Trish who thought she was up to something. Jessica wasn’t up to anything and certainly not up to taking the case Trish wanted her to have a look at. What good would it do if she started investigating where her powers came from? That wouldn’t undo the events in her life.

~

Trish was used to Jessica shutting her out from time to time, but she would not have it again. If Jessica meant to do her a favor by checking out Griffin, Trish would need to do her own good deed. She didn’t want to get Jessica in trouble, business or personal life, law or lawyer. As soon as Jessica left, Trish unlocked her cell phone. No time to be idle.

“Hi Malcolm. It’s me, Trish. What are you doing? Do you have a moment? Or are you doing something with Jessica?”

“Hi Trish. How are you?” Malcolm answered. “I hope everything is alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. You too? Sorry to be so direct, but I think something's up with Jessica.”

“Really?” Malcolm asked quizzically. “I can’t tell. She's as moody as ever.”

 “Jessica just left my place. Griffin, she, and I had that Italian dinner last night and alas…” Trish huffed.

“What are you worried about, Trish?”

“She brought her lawyer along. You know, Matthew Murdock? Malcolm,” Trish urged, “I need to know what Jessica has been doing. Have there been any weird cases? Anything that Jessica is withholding from me?”

“Not that I know of. I mean, Jessica and I haven’t talked much recently,” Malcolm said, matter of fact.

“She could have died when that freaking building collapsed. It wasn’t an earthquake!” Trish started chewing on a nail.

“That's for sure, but I don't know about anything new, Trish.”

“Very well, but then why did Jessica have her lawyer in tow? That certainly means trouble.”

“He's spent a lot of time in her apartment. I figure they're fucking and that’s why Jessica kept me at bay.”

Trish dropped her phone. It made a “klonk” as it hit the edge of her end table before tumbling to the floor.

“Hello? Trish? Are you still there?”

“Still there, Malcolm,” croaked Trish as she retrieved her cell phone. “Are you sure?”

“We're neighbors, Trish. The walls aren’t soundproof.”

“I don’t need any details, Malcolm.” Trish needed a moment to catch her breath. “Why would Jessica do this?”

“Because Jessica is anything but a prude? Trish,” Malcolm sounded a bit confused, “I don’t see where you're going with this.”

“Jessica told me she was done with dating.”

“And? Fucking and dating aren’t necessarily the same. Why do you want to discuss Jessica’s sex life with me, Trish? I can’t see the connection between that and the Midland Circle incident.”

“Exactly,” Trish declared as she drummed her fingers while waiting for her laptop to boot. “Malcolm, my point is, whatever Jessica is doing with her lawyer from the Midland Circle incident, it can’t be right.”

“Sorry to be dense, but enlighten me.”

Trish put the phone to her other ear as she opened her browser. She began to type frantically. “Jessica has been part of my life for ages. You've also known her for quite some time. Whether it's dating or sex, this man doesn’t fit. Bartender, electrician, doorman, construction worker, roadie, or random drunk at a dive bar, these are the kind of guys Jessica picks.” Trish clicked on some of the results the search engine had come up with it. “Are you online? I’ll send you some links.”

“So do you think Jessica is covering something up by pretending to do whatever with her lawyer?”

“What else?!” Trish’s fingers speeded up their drumming as she reread the information on her screen. “Matthew Michael Murdock. He had an accident as a kid that blinded him. Mother unknown, father dead. He grew up in a Catholic orphanage, but went to Columbia University. That’s an elite university, Malcolm. And he graduated summa cum laude. Are you aware of how many people have achieved a law degree with summa cum laude? It’s top of the class, like 1%. Then, Murdock is also doing pro bono work, no money, nada, nothing.” Trish hiccupped.

“Sounds like a little angel,” Malcolm concluded. Trish wanted to scream at his clueless, careless tone.

“See? Jessica and him, that’s not a match.”

“Yes, but if he's doing voluntary work. It’s not like Jessica is really rich and if he has a good heart…”

“But you said they're having sex,” Trish interrupted.

“Maybe he’s good in bed,” Malcolm offered. “Besides, you know Murdock and his former partner Franklin Nelson helped put that corrupt businessman, Fisk, into prison. Read he was quite powerful, so that must have been a big deal. Collected evidence against all odds. Convinced people to testify although they were scared. Trish, if Murdock is capable of this, he must be quite hard-boiled. He is a lawyer after all and lawyers are either hard-boiled like Hogarth or they are crap.”

“That’s even worse,” Trish threw her hands into the air, almost dropping her phone again.

“Honestly, Trish,” Malcolm’s voice was as exasperated as she felt, “now is he too good or too bad for Jessica? Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“I did, but that didn’t go well.”

“How, if you yourself don’t even know what you want? Maybe you're projecting your own relationship fears concerning Griffin on Jessica.”

Trish flung her cell phone into the corner. Unbelievable! How could Malcolm dare to utter such insolence? She was concerned for Jessica’s well-being and Malcolm had just brushed her off.

Trish stood up and collected her phone. She would find out if the police had something on Jessica, with or without Malcolm’s support.

 

**Shatter the glass**

 

“Rise and shine, Jones, it's past time to sober up,” someone shouted at her. Why, Jessica pondered, did she always wake up confused and disoriented lately? It smelled like piss, vomit and sweat and Jessica was shivering. The light was switched on, the artificial white rays dazzling her eyes. The next thing Jessica felt was cold steel against her hands – handcuffs. When she finally could see again, she recognized she'd woken up in a drunk tank. Well, at least she had managed to get so wasted that the alcohol had blasted her into oblivion. Quite an achievement with her fast metabolism. Against her will, Jessica had to laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny, Jones? You’ll be soon laughing out of the other side of your face when you’re in prison where monsters like you belong. I'm Detective Jackson, so remember who put you behind bars.” He pushed her backward. Much to the detective’s annoyance, Jessica simply continued to laugh. She still couldn’t stop when he slapped her full force in the face. It didn’t matter to her. Jessica vaguely recalled being in some random bar-restaurant where she had observed some crook trying to trick a helpless old man. Alcohol had never made her mellower. Of course, Jessica had to interfere and from there on the situation had escalated. Punching the crook to the moon and back had felt quite satisfactory. Like finally, she had done something right.

Detective Jackson hauled her into the interrogation room, cuffing her to the table. “Jessica Campbell Jones, you are here because you assaulted Trevor Waldo.” He stared at Jessica. “You don’t remember being arrested last night, do you? Fine, make clown faces all you want. The jury doesn’t like offenders so full of themselves.”

Detective Jackson passed her a written Miranda warning. “Pro forma. Officially, you got it last night. Even if you talk, it’s his word against yours. He is a modest, upstanding citizen, not some alcoholic abomination.”

At last, Jessica was able to stop laughing. “Fine, you douchebag, I…”

The door opened. “My client is not saying anything without my legal advice.”

Jessica raised her head. Trish lingered behind Matt in the doorway. She was looking at Jessica with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” she shouted, rattling the handcuffs, “I don’t fucking want him. I didn’t want him the first time and I don’t want him now. Trish, where’s Hogarth? Couldn’t you have gotten anybody else? Anybody but him?”

“You would be well advised to use any legal advice you can get, Miss Jones,” Detective Jackson sneered at her. “Especially if he's as established as Mr. Murdock here. I am sure we’ll see each other later.” He left the room.

“I’d rather go to prison than have him as a lawyer!” Jessica yelled.

“Jess!” Trish exclaimed, horrified. “Can I talk to her for a moment alone?”

“Sure,” Matt said curtly and walked outside as well. Jessica was convinced that the bastard could overhear them anyway. She should be indifferent to it by now since she wanted to see no more of Matt, no matter how much it bugged her. It wasn't the fact that what Jessica had to say was somehow secret. No, it was just a matter of principle.

 “What did you do, Jess? I knew trouble would come your way.” Trish paced the room.

“Some sucker got what they asked for. How did you know I was here? You’ve been sniffing around, right? Where is Hogarth?” Jessica repeated aggressively, trying to cross her arms, straining the handcuffs.

 “I told you. I'm worried about you. I have connections as well and they called me when you were arrested.” Trish sighed, exasperated. “I didn’t ask Hogarth, obviously. I thought you and Matt got along well since you brought him to the Italian dinner. Also, Malcolm said he stayed at your apartment frequently, so it seemed logical to me to contact him.”

“Urgh.” Jessica wanted to throw up. “Awesome. You’ve been talking to Malcolm behind my back.”

“No, Jess, it’s not talking behind your back if I am worried about you. You know you’re not the only one to have the right to worry about others.”

“Matt Murdock pissed me off. I want Hogarth.” Jessica never imagined herself asking to see narcissistic, manipulative Jeri Hogarth.

To her astonishment, Trish shook her head. “I'm aware. Matt told me you two had a falling out. You’ve probably been hurtful as always, Jess. I had to muster up all my reserves to convince him to help you out.”

Jessica bitterly threw her arms into the air, handcuffs snapping forcefully. “Fine, he doesn’t need to help me if he doesn’t want to. He’s hurt me, too. Prison, it is then.”

Trish sat down across from her, breathing heavily. “Jess,” she pleaded, “seriously, you don’t want to go to jail. Think of Luke. What would he say to that?”

Luke. Shit. Jessica wouldn’t have considered Luke if Trish hadn’t brought the subject up. Although Jessica was a self-reliant woman, Luke and his opinion mattered to her. “Listen, Trish, for his sake, I’ll talk to Matt. I can’t promise anything though.”

Trish took her hands. “Thanks Jess. And please, when you talk to Matt, for once try to think not only of yourself. Even if it’s difficult for you, whatever it was, try to put yourself into his shoes. I believe he's a good person, so don’t make things messier than they already are. I'll stay in touch and if there’s bail, let me please, no, I’ll pay it.”

If you only knew, Jessica thought to herself as she observed her sister depart. After a couple of minutes, Matt re-entered the room and sat down in the chair where Trish had been sitting minutes before.

“I am surprised to see you here.” Jessica saw no reason to beat around the bush.

“Your sister really loves you a lot. I don’t know how she wants to help given your behavior, but she does. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, telling me about all of your good qualities, coming to your defense, insisting that we should talk. Clearly, you don’t want to talk and I don’t want to either. You dish out so much, but can't take anything. I thought that you could relate to me, but clearly, I was wrong.” Matt flipped open his typewriter on the table. “So what happened?”

“Relate to you how? In terms of powers? What is my strength compared to your supersenses? Sure, I can beat someone up effortlessly; a lot of people think that's scary. You though, you get under people’s skin. Knowing what you can do, your presence, it’s like not being able to hide anywhere. You’re like thunder and lightning sweeping across open fields. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Matt stayed silent for a long time, only fumbling with his typewriter. “I didn’t choose to be like this, Jessica.” His voice sounded strained, Jessica could hear the agony in it. “Did you choose your powers? Did Luke? We're no Iron Fist. Yes, you can decide if you want to punch somebody, but in a dead-end situation, you’d use your strength. I may be able to block out individual signatures in a million sounds, smells and tastes, but do you think it comes easy for me when my focus is on a single individual? It somehow always stands between me and other people: Foggy, Karen… This is me, Jessica, this is how I am, whether I like it or not. Elektra understood this and I thought you would, too. We have to live with ourselves, powers or not. I still stand by what I said to you earlier. I have a better picture of myself because of you. It’s just sad that you can’t get through to yourself.”

“I am not an Elektra substitute,” Jessica retorted.

“As if.” Matt remarked sharply. “What do you know about Elektra anyway? I am not comparing you and her. She embraced herself, you don’t. Is that all you have to say?”

“I think we're going around in circles here. Are you going to embrace yourself now? Because of what happened to Elektra or because my assumed misery reflects your own? You give me a headache. Ever heard that every wound is different and heals differently?”

“This is like insisting that there's no healthcare.”

“I like deciding on my own dose. Again Matt, quit cornering me.”

“But you let me stay at your apartment and invite me into your bed. How does that strike you?”

Jessica realized that Matt had a point there. “I didn’t know what I was getting into,” she said rather helplessly.

“I don’t buy that, Jessica.”

But it was the truth. Though from Matt’s point of view Jessica could see why he didn’t believe her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t experienced his set of powers before. To blame him because she hadn’t been able to grasp the full extent of what he was capable of was simply wrong. They'd made a connection when Jessica invited him into her bed. He'd tried to warn her, in his way, by questioning her motives, but she'd plowed straight ahead. It was supposed to be just a game, playing with fire, but right at the start someone had changed the rules and they'd both gotten lost.

Jessica swallowed. “I'm sorry,” she offered.

Matt rested his forehead on one palm. “Are you? But you're right, this is going nowhere. Now, tell me what happened so we can leave.”

Looking at Matt’s posture, Jessica could see it was useless to start another discussion.

“My booze is out at home, my favorite liquor store is already closed, but I'm too sober for my taste. I walk into the closest location, some restaurant with a bar – the name is in the police report, I guess – to get wasted. That Trevor guy is also there. He is sitting with a fragile, elderly man at the next table. I don’t pay them much attention at the beginning. It could have been a grandpa with his grandson. I just start noticing when their conversation becomes louder and louder. The elderly man abruptly bursts into tears. He tells Trevor he doesn’t have any more money, he’s already taken everything out of his savings account, sold his car and cut down on heating costs. But Trevor still insists that he needs more money from grandpa; that he told him already on the phone that he’s in debt because his wife is so sick. Trevor insists that grandpa should sell his deceased wife’s belongings. Which obviously the elderly man doesn’t want as they are memorabilia.

“My instincts tell me that something is strange about the whole situation. Having a closer look at that Trevor guy, I realize that he doesn’t wear a wedding band. Trevor goes to the restroom, so I take the chance to talk to grandpa. It turns out that strangely, grandpa doesn’t even know the name of his apparent grandson and grandson’s wife, where they live or anything else about his grandchildren’s lives. It was only a few months ago when grandpa received a call from his grandson. He felt lonely and was happy to help out with a small sum in return for some contact. However, after a while Trevor needed more and more money. It screamed typical grandparent scam to me.

“Trevor returns and sees me talking with grandpa. That doesn’t sit well with Trevor. He accuses me of butting into the conversation. I tell him straight to his face what I think about him and his methods. That it’s downright disgusting to trick lonely, helpless elderly people, so he can steal their money. Trevor approaches me, giving me a threatening look. Grandpa wants to appease us, but Trevor shoves him away. Then Trevor comes after me and tries to slap me. There I lose it and punch him. I am not letting some asshole get away with his degrading schemes.

“He picked him because he thought grandpa was an easy victim. However, when I'm around, I don’t let anybody exploit the weak and defenseless.” Jessica stuck her chin out. “I can’t remember who called the police or when I got arrested.”

“I can work with that.” Somehow Matt didn’t sound as angry as before though his voice remained cold steel. “Your arraignment is next. We’ll have to see what charges the assistant district attorney will bring forward and how high a possible bail is. I’ll check what Trevor Waldo told the police and surely, there will be a statement by the owner of that bar-restaurant. I am certain that we can find the old man who got defrauded. You wanted to help him and you acted in self-defense. The only problem might be that you'll be accused of overreacting. Which is not surprising since you're not unknown in Manhattan. If we do it correctly, the bar-restaurant owner and grandpa can confirm your statement. I believe the ADA may also want to prosecute this as a fraud case. I’ll speak to her to check what she thinks. And I’m sure I can help that old man with the civil proceedings.” Matt gave Jessica a smug look. “See, this Jessica is another side of your reflection. I’ll talk to Detective Jackson and then we’ll go to court.”

 

**A glass shard is a mirror as well**

 

Arraignment done. Charged with assault in the third degree. Bail paid.

Her apartment felt empty. First, Jessica sat behind her desk, pointlessly clicking around surfing various internet sites without actually taking in their content. Next she moved to the couch, but the couch smelled like Matt. Then Jessica went to bed. The bed also smelled like Matt, even though he had just been in it once. It had to be her damn imagination. Finally, Jessica filled the tub with hot water and settled in. She couldn’t think of the last time when she had bathed. Though her muscles were relaxed soon, her mind was still tense. Not about the court date. Matt had sent her all the necessary information. It was just like he'd told her. The elderly man had been found and he and the bar-restaurant owner could exonerate Jessica. And the slimy crook would get sued as well.

No, for Jessica it was the prospect of facing Matt again. He certainly wouldn’t say anything private anymore. Jessica wanted to though, she just didn’t know how. Did she want to apologize, but what exactly for? Did she want to find out at which point exactly this fling had become personal and serious? The fact that she couldn’t cope with his powers had actually hurt him. And she was hurt by him invading her privacy. So that summed it up. Jessica splashed at the water. It was already lukewarm. She turned on the faucet to increase the temperature again.

Yet, if she was truthful to herself, Jessica really felt sorry. She wasn't sure how much Matt actually liked and accepted his supersenses. Probably a lot more than she liked her own powers. Being blind, they came in handy, but then everything had a price. Would she return her superhuman strength to have her family back? Hell yes. However, Jessica didn’t want to imagine what more Dorothy would have done to Trish if Jessica hadn’t been there. She would have never attracted Kilgrave’s attention. Or would she just have happened to be under his control anyway and not be able to do anything about it like all the other innocent people?

Maybe Matt was also of two minds about his powers. Jessica could assume that much, considering the state he had been in when he had first knocked at her apartment door. She guessed for him it was the other way round, his normal side troubled him much more while Jessica struggled with her powered side. And then she had attacked the side of himself he liked.

Although Matt had taken on her and the old man’s case, Jessica doubted that he was back to being normal. Some part of him must have done it for her. The mirror analogy came to her mind again. There was a truth in it after all. A part of him was her reflection on the other side and vice versa. Though what could Jessica say to make Matt believe she understood him after all?

Jessica got out of the tub and dried herself. Her skin was already shriveled up and she didn’t want to drown in case she fell asleep. The court hearing was in a few hours. Jessica took a fresh blanket and lay down on the floor.

~

“I think they might offer you the ACD. If they do, we should take it and not go to trial.”

“A what?”

“Are you listening to anything I say? Did you listen to the ADA? The judge? Your head must be somewhere else today.”

“I just don’t get all these legal terms. And I'm tired.” It was a half-truth. In reality, Jessica was preoccupied with the thought of how to get through to Matt. He had made it pretty clear that he wouldn’t swallow a half-assed apology.

“An Adjournment in Contemplation of Dismissal,” Matt explained. “Your case will be adjourned for six months. It means they give you the benefit of doubt and you don’t need to plead anything, just agree to it. You then need to stay out of trouble and after half a year your case will be dismissed. No costs involved.”

Jessica snorted. “Stay out of trouble? Anything else?” Sarcasm was dripping from her voice.

“Well, I reckon it would be an ACD with qualification. Pay Waldo’s medical bills, which I am aware is a no-go for you. Or community service. Like going to schools and holding a presentation for the kids about alcohol abuse and its consequences.”

“I would mess that one up, too. Don’t you think your God gave us alcohol for a reason?” Jessica bit her tongue upon seeing Matt’s peeved expression. It was hard to get out of the habit of mocking everything and everyone in her wake. She wanted to make amends, not piss Matt off more.

“For most people an ACD is awesome. They can be hard to negotiate, especially for persons who have made themselves a name for their superstrength, their drinking and anger management issues. Sure, there is the possibility of a not-guilty verdict. We can go to pre-trial and trial and it would take months and months. Probably the same amount of time covered by the ACD. And going to trial doesn’t mean you can stir up trouble like you want either. It’s going to make you look bad anyway. But you know what the real advantage is of accepting that ACD? That I don’t have to deal with you and your arguments for months and months. Go talk to Trish. I bet she'll help you build some suitable PowerPoint to use with the kids.”

That stung. It didn’t happen very often, but for the moment Jessica was left speechless. Think, Jessica, think, she told herself and counted mentally to ten. She didn’t want to offend Matt again.

“Fine. I’ll promise to accept the ACD if you hear me out one more time.”

“That’s a kind of blackmail, Jessica. I mean, I could just dump your case and you would need a new lawyer, but I assured your sister I would do this and I stand by my word. Two minutes.” Matt crossed his arms, tapping his feet in expectation.

“I can tell that you're still angry with me. I understand that and I also understand that you don’t believe me if I say I'm sorry. You probably can sense that I'm at odds with myself, so anything I say doesn't ring true to you. Trish has done some research into the car accident I was in when I was a teenager. She told me there are about fifteen to twenty days missing from the accident to the beginning of my hospital stay. The bills were paid by some company not affiliated with the hospital. Trish thinks there's something fishy there and that it has something to do with my powers. I didn't have any before the accident. Trish is also convinced if I know the whole truth about it, I'll be more at ease with myself. Maybe she's right. Even if you doubt me, you made me realize what your powers are to you. I’ll go look at the files Trish has dug up and I assume you’ll talk to Nelson and Page and then one day we can look at each other again without the glass shattering.”

**Heap of shards**

 

_Some months later…_

Jessica wandered through the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, trying to get as far away as she could from everything that reminded her of the IGH case. Her apartment where she had first met the Whizzer, where still the ashes of her Dad, Philip and some random person who wasn’t her mother lay on the shelf, where Oscar’s apartment was empty and where she could accidentally bump into Malcolm in the hallway. Away from any possible location where Trish could surface, trying to tell her that her mother’s death had been inevitable. Away from Detective Costa, who thought Jessica had pulled the trigger. Away from the city morgue where the dead body of her mother was stored.

Jessica’s mind was a barren wasteland - and an overflowing fountain at the same time. There were too many emotions warring inside. Whenever she tried to grasp a single thought, they slipped past and the only thing she felt was the deep emptiness inside her. ‘Main Street. Birch Street. Higgins Drive. Cobalt Lane,’ were sucked into it like matter into a dark hole. Her stomach couldn’t rumble as much as her feelings, her feet couldn’t ache as much as her heart.

Jessica didn’t know how much time she had already spent roaming around. Several hours, half a day, the whole day, everything was dark to her anyway, day or night. Eventually, she hit a dead end and ended up in a building corridor full of doorbell name plates.

Stroking her fingers past them, she wondered if the people behind the names had a healthy family life or whether the plates were just hiding torn relationships. Then Jessica saw it, a name plate not to be mistaken with any other name plate in the grand city of New York. Her subconsciousness at work, fate or just coincidence? Nelson, Murdock and Page c/o Nelson’s Meats. Hesitantly, she rang the bell.

A moment later, Jessica turned around. Would this even be worth it? If Detective Costa had wanted to arrest her, he would have done so at Playland. She didn’t need a criminal attorney. The door opened. “Hello. How can I help you?” someone asked behind her.

‘Sorry, wrong door,’ is what her brain wanted to say, but her tongue uttered: “Is Matt here?”

“Jessica Jones, is that you? Matt's with his mother, but I might be able to help you.”

Jessica swung around, staring at Foggy Nelson slack-jawed, her face drained of all blood. “Mother?” she echoed. “Mother? I didn’t know Matt had a mother. A living mother.” Jessica tumbled against the door frame, a wave of nausea hitting her.

“Until recently, he didn’t know either. Are you all right?”

“He has a mother, he has a mother. Alive,” Jessica mumbled to herself. What vicious irony. She grabbed her head, shaking it to and fro. Jessica took no notice of Nelson guiding her inside.

“Well, yes,” he said, taken slightly by surprise by Jessica’s reaction. “It was quite a shock for him. But why don’t you ask him yourself?” He inclined his head towards Matt who was entering the room.

“Jessica, what are you doing here?”

Jessica ignored Matt’s raised eyebrows, his confused expression as she stumbled forward. “You have a mother.” She pointed a finger at him accusingly and then burst into tears. With a sudden outrage, all of the emotions Jessica had kept inside for months, maybe for years, needed to break free. The pressure had risen too high. Keeping grief, anger, guilt and hurt in check with alcohol and occasionally punching assholes like Trevor Waldo wasn’t enough anymore.

She dropped into a chair, let her head fall onto the table and bawled uncontrollably.

“Yikes, Matt.” Jessica was able to feel Nelson staring at her like she had grown a second head. “What’s wrong with her? Is that really the Jessica Jones we know?”

“Honestly, I’ve no idea.”

“Phew. And now? What has your mother got to do with Jessica?”

“No clue either. I haven’t seen or talked to Jessica in ages.”

“I wish Karen was here. She would know what to do. If she were a normal woman, I would go over and hug her, but she’s probably going to hit me if I attempt it. Your mother doesn’t know Jessica by chance?”

“I don’t think so. Jessica is not religious. I seriously hope there's not much behind it. I can’t stomach any more of what I, we, had recently.”

“Try to relax, Matt. Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”

“Mmmmh.”

Matt’s and Nelson’s conversation rushed past Jessica like background noise. The stupid tears wouldn’t stop falling no matter how hard she tried to stop them. When was the last time she cried in front of someone else? The pain threatened to eat her up, her lips voiced only hiccups as Jessica tried to snap air between several sobs.

“We need her to stop crying and start telling us what’s wrong.” Nelson analyzed. He placed a package of tissues in front of Jessica. “Matt, you spent more time with Jessica than I did. Suggest something.”

“If it’s about my mother, I am out.” Matt declared, his voice still sounding tense.

“Maybe it’s something that we haven't connected yet. As I said, we need information first.”

“It’s not about your mother, it’s not about anybody’s damn mother, it’s about my damn mother,” Jessica finally managed to blurt out as she continued to cry into her sleeves. “She’s dead for real now.”

“I am sorry,” Nelson offered.

“Don’t be,” Jessica snapped, “no one else is.”

“Look, Jessica,” Matt slid into the chair next to her, “we don’t have time for you to be difficult.”

“Matt! Whatever happened between you and Jessica, remember what she did for you, me and everybody else in New York. She’s obviously in great distress right now and she wouldn’t have come here if she didn’t need our help. Sometimes it’s hard to ask for help. You of all people should know this,” Nelson complained, indignantly.

“Fine, Foggy, lead the conversation.” Matt gave in.

“Can do, though my gut feeling is that she'll be more likely to open up to you.” Nelson also sat down. “Jessica?”

“Urgh.” Jessica ripped the tissue package open, snatched a handful of them and blew her nose violently. “I don’t need anything from anybody. My mother is dead. Dead. Don’t you watch the news?”

“We’ve been quite busy lately,” Nelson admitted.

“My mother was a murderer. She got turned into a murderer. But she was still my mother. And then she got murdered herself. And they assume it was me. And it’s fine for them because she was a murderer. But it wasn’t me. Because she was my mother. Even though I probably should have done it, shouldn’t I? I don’t fucking know.” Jessica slammed her fist into the table, splintering wood.

“Dear me.” Nelson threw her another look of astonishment. “I mean I should be already used to this, but I guess not. Matt, aren't you going to say anything? Come on.”

“Did this have anything to do with the case Trish wanted you to look at the last time we spoke?”

“Don’t you ever mention her name to me again,” Jessica hissed.

“Whoa, okay, calm down,” Nelson beseeched her.

“I don’t want to calm down!” Jessica screamed. “She fucking murdered my mother. She was supposed to be my best friend, my sister! And then she betrayed me by killing my mother. My real mother, the one who I just found out didn’t die in the accident with my Dad and brother, not the dumb bitch of an adoptive mother who brought this traitor into the world.”

“How did you find your mother?” Matt inquired, his expression relaxing a bit, overtaken by curiosity.

“I… I…received a file… and I… had a client who was a patient.” Jessica fanned herself, trying to stop hyperventilating. “In a company... there was a company called IGH. It was a cover up for a genetics lab and clinic. Guess what they did. Similar things Luke had happen to him in Seagate. When our car crashed, they took my Mom and me there. They decided that we would survive, that’s how we got our superstrength. But my Mom had terrible side effects, so they kept her to try to cure them. That’s why I ended up with the Walker family. Through the file, client and follow-up investigations I found both my Mom’s doctor and her.”

“Wherever you look, this world is a crazy place,” Nelson mumbled.

“Why am I even telling you this?” Jessica sniffled. “I barely know you. And the people who were closest to me, my adoptive sister, Malcolm, Oscar - they all went behind my back.”

“Maybe you don't need to tell me, but you need to tell someone. You think from what you’ve gone through, you’ve got to do things on your own - the world's shown you not to trust anyone. However, you’re not the only one. By now, I’ve gained enough knowledge to spot them when I see them. When I see you like this, I see him,” Nelson pointed towards Matt. “I am not exactly sure what he did all those times in your apartment, but it must count for something. Go with Matt and tell him the rest of your story.”

Both Jessica and Matt gaped at Nelson. Before either she or he was able to voice their protest, Nelson stopped them. “You’ve got no say in this. You can have a sandwich on the house though. Theo is always supplying us with good sandwiches.” He walked through the door that connected their law firm’s office to the store.

Jessica chewed on a nail.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Matt said, deadpan.

“The actual question is - do you really want this?” Jessica remarked with a trace of cynicism. “We didn’t part on good terms and you probably think we’re going to clash again. I figure if you agree to this, it’ll be for Nelson’s sake.”

“Maybe.” He remained vague. “See Jessica, back then you claimed that you finally understood what my powers are to me, but that doesn’t mean that you want to carry their weight. If you come with me, you have to.”

“Perhaps that’s exactly what I need.”

Before Matt was able to reply, Nelson returned with a huge paper bag. “Turkey breast with rocket pesto and a caprese bacon sandwich, Nelson’s finest. There you go.”

“Thanks, Foggy.” Matt took the bag from Nelson. “See you on Monday.” He walked towards the door, not waiting for Jessica. She trailed right behind him. They didn’t exchange a single word on the way to Matt’s apartment. Jessica’s throat was sore and dry from crying so much and Matt was thoughtfully silent.

 

**Caught in the house of mirrors**

 

The door to Matt’s apartment fell shut. This is it, Jessica thought, here we go again, as she switched on the light. Matt dumped the bag with the sandwiches on the kitchen counter. He picked up two glasses from a shelf and filled them with water.

“Here.”

Jessica emptied the glass in one swallow and Matt refilled it. Her stomach rumbled suddenly. When was the last time she'd eaten? She snagged one of the sandwiches, took her glass and collapsed on Matt’s couch. Until now, Jessica had functioned on autopilot, but the recent events had started to take their toll. She wolfed the sandwich down. Matt came over and without asking, he handed Jessica his own portion. It was gone in no time, too.

“Do you want to talk now or do you want to catch some sleep first?”

Jessica shrugged. “I am dead tired, but I don’t think my brain will let me rest.”

“You can try to talk and then you can always stop if you feel like it.”

“Are you still angry with me?” Jessica had to know.

“Angry is not the word I would use.” Matt cleaned up the table. “That’s not important at the moment. Tell me what happened after you found your mother and the doctor who treated her.”

'That’s not important at the moment' likely meant he didn’t want to talk about it and still held some kind of grudge against her.

“If you think I’ve got anger management issues, you should have seen my Mom. The tiniest thing set her off and she wouldn’t calm down without using some drug. She killed several people when she escaped once, including my boyfriend at the time. I am not sure because I only know the story from her perspective. Apparently, she thought he was bad for me. That’s no reason to kill someone, right?

“When I looked into IGH, I realized she was my real mother. I didn't imagine she'd already murdered several people and that without restraint she would do it over and over again. And I blamed myself because I couldn’t prevent it all and there were two more people Mom killed. Guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?”

Only when Jessica felt the warmth of Matt’s body against hers, did it dawn on her that her cheeks were wet with tears again. She could have sworn that she had no more tears left to cry.

“Don't,” she sniveled, but held onto him nevertheless.

“No matter how I've shielded myself, my heart is not made of ice, Jessica. Quite the contrary.”

“I know, Matt. But the thing that stands between us…the disagreement we had about our powers and the significance they have for our lives.”

“I sensed your presence miles before you showed up at our office. All these raw emotions mingling, seething, spilling over. Stark, deafening like they were never before. I could have walked away. I didn’t want to. I would have always asked myself what the story was.” Matt paused, musing. Then he carefully added: “You’ve hurt my feelings, okay and it’s not easy for me to accept that I let this happen. I vowed I never would let anyone hurt me again and it’s not easy for me to admit that you managed to do so. Anyway, what I meant to say is that these emotions are quite different from the ones I felt from you last and I had to learn the reason behind it.”

Jessica swallowed hard. She put her arms around Matt and leaned against his chest. “I am sorry I badmouthed Elektra. She was really important to you, wasn’t she? When you're an outsider, you just see the terrible stuff. My mother was a terrible person, but still she was my mother. I missed her all my life, then she was back and she genuinely loved me. Her love came free, without condition. The love she gave to me, I am not certain how to describe it, it was a separate thing from all the rage. Her love was there before the rage. And even when the rage was present and I was… I can't condone what my Mom has done, but our connection couldn’t be denied. There was also a part of her that wanted to do good, but the rage just blasted through it.”

Matt stayed silent, but this time it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. He brushed her hair, softly arranging the strands around her face. Jessica snuggled closer and he let her. The incredible closeness that had almost choked Jessica months ago was now soothing. It gave her strength to continue her story.

“I almost messed up the ACD you negotiated for me. I had a conflict with a competing PI. I had to do an anger management class as well. I managed to scare the shit out of people, people who beat their partners into submission for decades. Great. Not. On the other hand, the presentation for the school kids went astonishingly well. Should have gone to drama school instead. Sorry, went off track. My mother killed this PI’s partner and he tried to kill Mom in return. Mom was arrested and Jeri got her case. This is horrible, what comes next is horrible. I thought… I almost forgot. I am not sure if I can tell you this. You will judge me. I don’t want you to judge me, I don’t want to go back there.” Jessica snuffled.

“What do you mean, Jessica?”

“Remember earlier on, you told me that if I come with you, I have to carry the weight of your powers, and I said that's probably exactly what I need. I’ve got more blood on my hands than you do. Blood I don’t want to see or let anybody else see. I am sorry if I upset you again.” She wanted to free herself of his embrace, but Matt didn’t let her and she gave up resisting immediately.

“Why do you assume I'm more innocent than you?”

“Doesn't Daredevil avoid killing?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t mean that the urge isn’t calling to me.”

“I killed Reva, I killed Kilgrave and a third man… it will always haunt me. I know, Kilgrave was controlling me, but they were my hands that took Reva’s life. I had to kill Kilgrave because that was the only way we could be sure he wouldn’t use his powers to escape from prison and start all over again. But I just have this feeling that doesn’t go away - by ending his life, I proved Kilgrave right that I am a good murderer.”

“No, Jessica. That doesn’t make you a murderer and I doubt you murdered the third man you are referring, either. You don’t enjoy ending somebody’s life. Just because I haven’t killed someone yet, it doesn’t put me above you. I cannot predict the future. There were many good people who got caught up in a desperate situation. Besides, a man who loved a woman ruthless in her methods, a woman who told him that it was part of her personality that she enjoyed killing, shouldn’t judge you. You’re such a pinhead, Jessica.” Matt continued to play with her hair affectionately. “Of course, it’s up to you if you want to trust me with this part of your story or keep it to yourself. You don't owe me anything.”

Jessica turned around, so she could view Matt’s face. “Matt, can I ask you a very personal favor? I will tell you anyway, but it would make it easier for me if you could do me the favor.”

“Go ahead. I have already an idea.”

“You are an impossible man.” She playfully poked his chest. “Please tell me about your mother, okay?”

“My father never told me much about her.” There was wistfulness to his voice Jessica hadn’t heard before. “I assumed she was dead and it had been too painful for my Dad to talk about her. In truth my mother suffered with postpartum depression after having me. She concluded it was God’s punishment for straying from the straight and narrow. So she left my father to atone for what she thought was a heavy sin. I just wish…”

His voice trailed off. Jessica gently touched his face to show Matt that she was still there with him. “When they murdered my father, she should have revealed her identity to me. She was in that orphanage, but still so far away. I could have died fighting the Hand and I would have never known that my mother was still alive. She took care of those wounds at Clinton’s, but wouldn’t have taken care of…” He cleared his throat. “One day - she wasn’t aware of my heightened hearing - she spoke aloud to my father, as if he could hear what she was saying about me, their son.”

“Holy crap,” Jessica uttered for a lack of better words. “Sorry, Matt, I'm sorry.” The pain in his words washed over her and seeped into her mind and heart. Suddenly, she felt bad for asking him to disclose the story about his mother. It had indeed the desired effect of distracting Jessica from her own misery, but it hadn’t been fair.

“I'm sorry.” Jessica repeated, aware that she was starting to sound like a parrot. Consoling other people, finding the right things to say, had never been her strength. She was good for yelling abuses and stabbing her finger into a fresh wound. Which she had just done.

“It’s alright, Jessica.” She didn't have to have Matt's powers to know that was a lie. “She helped me out after you and I parted and I forgave her.”

“Just because you forgive someone, it doesn't ease the pain. The source of it has been there for years, why would it just go away? What a bummer. Family is the worst. You know what they say - you can pick your friends, but not your family.”

“Words of wisdom.”

“From me? I haven't always chosen my friends well either.”

“Jessica, would you like to continue?”

Jessica propped her chin up. “I guess I'd better. After you told me about your mother, I should return the favor. About the third person who died at my hands… are you able to keep this to yourself? Cause nobody else knows.”

“Attorney-client-privilege. Seriously, Jessica, this goes without saying.”

“Mom’s warden enjoyed torturing her. I broke into his house and found out that it was his sport to torment inmates until they died. Disgusting. Unfortunately, he discovered me, so it got rough. Well, after it was all over… all I had in my head was that bastard Kilgrave applauding. I couldn’t think straight, I cleaned up the mess and made it look like he committed suicide by putting his body up on the roof. And Kilgrave loved me for that.”

Matt removed the elbow from under Jessica’s chin, so that her head rested again his chest. He was good at comforting her with his presence alone. “Hey, Jessica, I am here for you. The rational part of your brain knows that it was self-defense, but there were other forces at play which make you doubt yourself. I am here for you - whether you need words of solace, a distraction or legal help if the truth ever surfaces.”

Jessica sighed. “I don’t want to ask you for that kind of distraction again.”

“Which kind?” His change to a light teasing tone confused Jessica. She was about to explain when he abruptly kissed her. Matt’s lips still felt as sensual as she remembered. Jessica was so caught by surprise that she didn't respond in kind before Matt stopped.

“I never regretted the actual sex with you; it was just that I couldn’t cope with the rest of it. But now I see you might be the only person who can handle the real me. See me for what I am, see my needs.”

“How so?” Matt wondered.

“Do you really have to ask?”

“Hmmm. Ask Karen or Foggy. I think they would object. It was you who pointed out to me that I was being a shitty friend.”

Jessica shrugged. “You haven’t been a shitty friend to me. Let me tell you what my shitty friends did. This whole thing was about my mother and me: what happened to us, the experiments, the powers, our grief, our relationship. Sure, my adoptive sister poked me to have a look at the files she'd unearthed and Malcolm always wanted to show me that he could be some sort of awesome assistant investigator sidekick and…”

She stumbled over the words, “…and in any other case it wouldn’t have been a problem. But this was my mother. All I wanted was for them to trust me to handle this one issue. Instead of understanding, they went behind my back. Malcolm teamed up with my adoptive sister because she knew how to push his buttons. This wasn’t the worst betrayal though. My adoptive sister always wanted her own superpowers. Like my life is so great because of them? She knew all about how I suffered from losing my family and from what Kilgrave did to me, she was there the whole time and she could see it. So when my life threw me another obstacle in form of a killer Mom, the only thing she was able to think about was that the powers she craved were within reach. We should have sent her to K’un-Lun with Danny boy.” Jessica let out a bitter laugh.

“What did she do? She went to find Dr. Malus herself, asking for the same treatment Mom and I received. That’s just so batshit insane, I just can't get my head around it. After almost killing my adoptive sister with his treatment the fucker unexpectedly had a bout of remorse, regret or whatever and went into self-destruct mode. All of IGH and himself – boom. Are you still with me?”

Jessica barely registered Matt’s nod. Rage was building up inside her, its force bubbling and boiling. “I need to punch something. You got anything I can use?” She freed herself from his embrace and this time Matt let her go. Her knuckles turned white as she ground her teeth. “Shit shit shit, I can’t, I can’t go on like this.”

“Foggy thinks that red cabinet is super ugly,” Matt carefully suggested from behind her. Jessica didn’t need to be told twice. She jumped up and kicked one of the cabinet’s doors full-force. Afterwards she hammered her fists into the top, smashing the wood into pieces. When the cabinet collapsed, Jessica stomped on it until nothing but dust was left. Along with a huge dent in the floor. She was lucky that she hadn’t broken through. Jessica attempted to breathe, but it proved to be quite difficult given she hadn’t yet reached the end of her story.

“Do you think anyone will call the cops?”

“Nah, I think Fran is on holiday and the elderly folks below are almost deaf. It’s not the first time I caused a ruckus. Foggy and I totally drunk… Stick, Elektra, a Hand ninja trying to assassinate me...”

“I'd say sorry, but I'll probably end up doing it again.” Jessica stood in the room, wondering how much it would take to extinguish her blazing fire.

“Doesn’t matter. Recently, I inherited some money.”

“I'm pretty sure that's not what Elektra had in mind.”

“Rest assured she would at least be mildly amused.”

Jessica returned to the couch. “You talk now. Doesn’t matter what about. Whatever you like.”

“Would you like a beer?” Matt went to the fridge to fetch them each a bottle. As he settled down, Jessica saw the trace of a shadow flicker over his face.

“After I settled your ACD, I found out that Wilson Fisk had been released from Ryker's Island.”

“That ugly asshole who tried to destroy Hell’s Kitchen? The one you and Nelson helped put behind bars? What did you do?” Jessica peered curiously at Matt.

“I couldn’t avoid Foggy and Karen anymore. They probably knew from your ACD and the Murray Tucker v. Trevor Waldo case that I was alive, but I did my best to evade all their attempts to reach out to me. After all that happened, I was so full of fury. You didn’t get the worst of it, but you got some. Unlike most, you could handle it. Well, my mother could, too. Anyway, I had lost faith, everything that I had believed in before had been turned to dust. Stick’s atrocious tales of the Hand and the Black Sky, all true. The whole system – rotten to the core, what could the law do? And Fisk, another infection.”

“Okay, but why did you bother helping me then? You didn't have to take me on, or my case, or go to dinner with me and my adoptive sister.”

Matt gave her a smile, warm and caring. It made Jessica’s stomach flip. She hadn’t seen it coming at all. “You still don't know? I did it for you. When I'm alone, I only reflect myself, never seeing my flaws. But when I'm with you, I actually see who I really am. You reflect off me as I reflect off you. You are my mirror. Consciously, I was still angry with you, but my subconscious wouldn't leave me alone. Do you think that was selfish of me?”

“Sometimes I don’t quite get how your mind works. Your self-reflection is way different than mine. But I feel you might be right. Otherwise, I don’t think I would have sought you out after all this.”

“Foggy and Karen probably thought that I was self-centered. During our first meeting after the thing with the Hand, I told Foggy that he and Karen should stay away from Fisk, that I would handle it my own way.”

“You just wanted to protect them. I did the same thing.”

“Thank you, Jessica. Nevertheless it turned out different than I expected. Fisk was a cunning bastard. He had almost the whole prison under his control. He had staged an inmate attack on himself, so that the FBI would pull him out and he could advance his game. He denounced me as a criminal.”

Jessica took a slug of beer. “Son of a bitch. Must have been living under a rock to miss that one.”

“You had other things on your mind. Anyhow, Karen and I found that inmate, Evans, and took him to the New York Bulletin to get his confession. Then someone who wore a Daredevil suit came in, killed Evans and half of the staff and I couldn’t prevent that.” Matt’s voice began to falter. “He was extremely skilled, way above average. All dead in my name,” he whispered.

Matt was shaking. Jessica gave him his beer, trying to steady his hands. “Drink,” she commanded. “Why are you telling me this, hmm? When I asked you to talk, I didn't mean pick something painful. I am not that mean. I thought maybe a joke, some funny story from college or something like that. And there you are, exposing your feelings to me.”

“I just thought you might be interested in the events of my life after we went separate ways.”

“Yes, but not when it obviously pains you. Do you have any hard liquor here?”

Matt shook his head.

“Then beer will have to do.” Jessica supplied them with another round.

“I didn’t expect this part to hit so close to home again.” He sighed. “You recounted your journey for me and it’s only fair that I do the same for you, especially since my perception of you runs way deeper.”

“That’s beside the point. Yes, in those days I accused you of listening in without my permission, but today I came to you. If you don’t want to proceed, that’s okay with me. I don’t have to match my pain with your pain and we end up with a mountain of shit together.”

Matt sipped at his beer, wrinkling his forehead. “There was a happy ending for me after all. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have found me at Nelson, Murdock and Page. But yours… where is yours? From what I was able to gather, there isn’t one for you.”

“Life isn’t a fairytale, Matt.”

“Even when we have powers like they have magic?”

“Are you already drunk after two beers? I'm jealous.”

“Of course not. Let me pick up where I left off. I discovered that the Daredevil imposter was with the FBI. Apparently, Fisk had found one of the agents with a weakness he could manipulate to execute part of his schemes. That’s what he does best and what makes him so dangerous. And then the moment arrived when I overheard my mother addressing my dead father. It totally threw me off. But when you think it can’t get worse, it gets worse.”

“Shit hitting the fan, yeah, sounds familiar. I'll drink to that.”

“You know, Jessica, what I would prefer to another beer?” Matt held his arms out to her. Against her will, she blushed. She really sucked at comforting other people. Jessica scooted over and he instantly rested his head against hers.

“Karen went after Fisk on her own. He tricked her into revealing my identity to him and because she didn’t know how to pay him back otherwise, she rubbed it into his face that she killed Wesley. He was the closest thing Fisk had to a best friend. When we tried to put Fisk into prison for the first time, Wesley apparently abducted Karen and she shot him.”

"Sounds like what you told me earlier about my situation - many good people were caught in a desperate situation here as well."

“Yes. Of course, Fisk couldn’t do anything with the FBI present, but soon as Karen was out of his hotel suite, she was his number one target. Karen tried to hide at Clinton’s. In vain. Once more fake Daredevil appeared. I was able to prevent any harm coming Karen’s way, but not…” Matt’s voice broke one more time.

“Hey, I understand. The road was hard to climb. No need to rehash it. Stop talking now and that’s not a request, that’s an order. If you want, you and I can climb that mountain later, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed after a while.

Jessica was glad that Matt seemingly had regained his composure. She felt uncomfortable consoling him even though he was a… yeah what? No clue.

“Good,” she said only to say something.

“How about you?”

“How about me? What about me? I'm here.”

“Obviously.” Matt poked her gently into the side. “Do you… are you able to finish talking about your mother or do you want to postpone that as well?”

“You’ve been pretty good at deflecting my pain with yours. Although I understand that wasn’t part of your plan. I’ve calmed down, well for my standards. But I can also rage on other people’s behalf. I don’t mind listening, I'm a good investigator and I like to take matters in my own hands. All action. What I'm not good at is consoling someone. My best offer is drinks and sex.”

Matt had to laugh. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“What?” she scolded.

“Your kind of consolation is just different than most people’s; it doesn’t mean it’s not helping.”

“If you say so.”

“Yes, I say so. However, you still haven’t answered my question. Right now you're in the eye of the storm. I can bear that onslaught. I’ve learned a lesson in my fight against Fisk. I’m not going to walk away from people again. Not from anyone anywhere and that applies also to you.”

“Wow.” Right now, Jessica wished she had that stupid ball from the anger management session. Not because she was angry, but because she needed something to occupy her hands with while she was thinking. “Postponed is not abandoned, okay? I’d rather drain all my energy tonight than do it tomorrow or the day after. It’s too much to lock away in my brain. It’s already full with other stuff. Unfortunately. And if I postpone it, I’ll have to rummage around to find… well, the loose thread. More energy lost.”

“The last thing you were saying was that Malus blew IGH and himself up,” Matt offered helpfully.

“Correct. It got on the news. Mom went ballistic, no prison walls to hold her any longer. Mom not so surprisingly blamed my adoptive sister for her beloved Malus’ death. You know what, Matt, in retrospect this is all water down the drain. I was so mad at my adoptive sister for trying to get powers, but I didn’t want her to die! Mom stormed the hospital where she was admitted and tried to finish her off. I couldn’t let that happen, but there was no reasoning with my mother. Instead she threw a cop to her death. God. Just like that. And still the police told me that they would handle my Mom and I shouldn’t interfere. No way I could do that!”

Jessica rose once more from the couch. She was sweating and her legs were tingling. She started to pace the room, went to the kitchen, counted the beers in the fridge, but didn’t take another one, looked into all of Matt’s cupboards. Eventually, she took a garbage bag out and started to throw the small surviving pieces of the cabinet into it.

“I suppose the police didn’t realize what they were getting into. Same as the FBI with Fisk. Well, authorities rarely admit that they can’t manage something. They should learn to ask for help.”

“Full of themselves. Like most people.” Meanwhile Jessica searched for the dustpan and the broom. Matt very much likely knew their whereabouts, but he also knew that Jessica needed to keep herself busy. Cleaning up was better than making another mess.

“I thought I could finally put an end to all my Mom’s killings… but I couldn’t. Did I really want to? Would I have had regrets for the rest of my life?” As her search for the broom was unsuccessful, Jessica simply emptied the contents of the garbage bag on the floor and started over.

“I am glad you didn’t kill your mother, Jessica. In your position, I couldn’t have done it either. And even though it's not the same, I'm also glad I didn’t kill Fisk. When we planned to frame him, Karen figured out that Fisk killed his father. I doubt that Fisk Senior was the sample of an ideal dad, quite less so, but look what's become of Fisk. Nothing you and I would like to be.”

Finally, Jessica located the fucking broom. Violently, she swept up the last remnants of the cabinet, mostly missing the dustpan. “Life's a bitch. Can’t choose. Would it have been really realistic that if Malus had escaped to wherever, that my mother would behaved long enough to serve her sentence in a normal prison? Am I a rotten, lousy daughter if I have the faintest qualms about that scenario? The worst is… part of me wishes…”, she began to wheeze. Jessica opened a window and breathed in some fresh air.

“Whatever.” Jessica mechanically shook her head. “Mom knocked me out and took me along in a stolen camper. We talked a shitload. Finally, finally, I was expecting to see a light at the end of the tunnel when Mom agreed to wait for the cops. But what I wasn’t expecting… I wasn’t expecting… I wasn’t expecting…” Jessica’s voice became louder and louder until her lungs felt like bursting her ribcage.

“Why.” Jessica snatched the garbage bag. “Did.” She staggered forward and backwards. “She.” Jessica lunged out. “Do.” It formed a perfect curve. “This.” Flying out. “To.” Of the Window. “Me.” Clonk. While earlier on it had been hot white rage kept in a cauldron, now the cauldron bubbled over. Melting in the scorching lava that rushed forward, with no dam to stop it. Everything faded into the background. Matt. The apartment. The living room. Light. Sound. She was singularly focused.

“You shot my mother. You wanted to become a hero, but you are just another merciless killer. I took the blame for you. Costa thinks it was me. Never.” Glass shattered. “And you, you are her willing accomplice. Mom’s blood on the Ferris wheel is also blood on your hands.” Wood crumpled. “Trish. Treachery. Malcolm. Malice.” The howling of the wind. “Oscar Aracho. Archscoundrel. I thought you were with me on this.” The banging of the window. “Instead you puss out and run back to your ex. The one who wanted to abduct your precious son!” Splintering. More splintering. “Mom. Murderer.” Breaking over and over again. “Why couldn’t you have spared me all this?” And out out out. “I wish you would have stayed dead. Dead!”

There. She had voiced the unspeakable after all.

There was nothing left. Jessica collapsed in a heap of ruins, blood and ashes. The last thing she felt was a cool hand on her forehead.

**Through the looking glass and to Wonderland**

 

_She was trapped somewhere, searching for the way out. Grimacing faces floated past her. Mom. Trish. Malcolm. Dr. Malus. Oscar. Detective Costa. House of mirrors again. All these distorted images. But not the one she wanted to see. Everything was foggy. Shrouded. Where was the Looking Glass showing her the way to freedom? There was a rattling sound. It was her throat. She coughed, almost choking. The mirrors started to fade away. No, please not the Looking Glass!_

“Hey,” a familiar voice she couldn’t immediately place spoke to her. A familiar voice with traces of worry and affection.

“Hey,” she croaked, not daring to open her eyes yet. “What… happened?”

“You passed out. You were completely exhausted.”

“For real?” She tried to fight off the heavy fatigue enclosing her. “Fuuuuuuuuck. I'm not the type to faint.”

“There's a first time for everything.” A cushion was propped under her back.

Parts of memories slowly surfaced. It hadn’t been one of those nightmares were you were happy to wake up. “Shit. Did I hurt somebody? You?”

“No, Jessica. I stayed out of your way. And no one else either. The street and the yard were empty.”

She blinked into the dazzling sunlight. “I threw all the furniture out of the window, didn’t I?”

“Almost. I sat on the couch.”

“You're lucky I didn’t throw that out, too,” she murmured. “Are you going to get into trouble because of that? Are you mad at me?” She clutched the cushion, hiding her face in it. If she didn’t get up, she wouldn’t have to face reality, right? But she also knew if she went back to sleep, she'd return to the house of mirrors.

“No. Why should I? I somehow anticipated that you would snap. I called the junk collectors while you slept and we'll buy new furniture.”

She listened to the voice carefully. There was no change to it. Peaceful, warm, soothing. “Matt? Is that you?”

“Yes.” No mocking tone. Instead a large hand that took hers. Emptiness gnawed at her. Together with that furniture, she had trashed all her emotions (or had all of her emotions trashed her?) out. Now she needed to fill that emptiness, but didn’t know how. If it were only as easy as furniture shopping.

“I want to stay in bed, but don’t want to. I want to drink, but don’t want to. I want to do something, but don’t want to. Does that make sense?”

“To me it does. I felt something similar after I woke up in Saint Agnes. Not only had Midland Circle collapsed, my world had collapsed while Elektra was buried who knows where. Nevertheless, at every stage after there were people who believed in me and who helped me rebuild my world. You among others, Jessica.”

“Me?” For a moment, her body and mind appeared to reconnect. Jessica sat upright and quizzically studied Matt. “Are you ill? Masochistic?”

Matt laughed softly. “You know it's true. I don’t need to tell you a third time.”

“After the cabinet incident, most people would have run for their life like they saw a hurricane crossing their living room.” Jessica kneaded the cushion. “And afterwards it only got worse.”

“I am not most people.” He smiled.

“You don’t need to tell me that. What's between us?” A thought wandered through her mind, stopping at different stations, going in a complete circle. Jessica furrowed her brows. “You have feelings for me,” she stated, stunned. “When?”

“I've had a lot of feelings for you these last months - and some of them conflicted with others - but I'm not conflicted anymore. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment.”

Jessica studied Matt's expression. He was so calm all the time. Why was he so calmly revealing his feelings to her? He must know something she didn’t know herself. Then it hit her. It felt right.

She flung the cushion at him. “Don’t think that because I'm so mellow right now, I will always be like that.”

This time Matt laughed wholeheartedly. “You and mellow? That’s absurd and that would be boring as well. Besides, those with malicious tongues claim that I’m no angel either.”

“Then, I have a malicious tongue. My mother, well, the sane part of her, would have liked you.” Jessica sighed. “She’s still in the morgue. I need to bury her, her and the ashes of my Dad and Philip. Will you come to the funeral with me? I have no one else and they only have me.”

“Of course. It goes without saying.”

“Thank you, Matt. But right now, I want nothing but to be here with you.” Jessica pulled him into the bed with her and kissed him deeply. Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to fill her emptiness all at once. It felt good that she had hung up a mirror. It had been Alice’s door to Wonderland after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas htbthomas and Kate. You were awesome!


End file.
